


Just Because You Can

by SevralShips



Series: Jolene AU [1]
Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/F, F/M, Jolene AU, Multi, fem!triplet AU, slow burn pinecest, tw incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-09-21 13:17:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 35,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9550754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SevralShips/pseuds/SevralShips
Summary: The Pines triplets, Mabel, Dipper, and Jolene, have always been best friends. But lately, there’s been some distance growing between the Mystery Kids, due in part to the forbidden feelings with which they are each struggling. How will they manage to see eye to eye, when torn between wanting each other and craving adventure?(This is a new AU that I’ve been calling Jolene AU, inspired when I asked myself the question “What if Mabel and Dipper were triplets but with another sister?”. Although this AU is similar, it is not connected to Double Dippin’ AU, and Jolene is in no way connected to Tyrone.)Mostly SFW, mostly angst with some action/adventure and a little bit of fluff, tw incest





	1. Viola & Sebastian

_ Cut it out, Mabel-girl, _ Mabel chastised herself impatiently as she squeezed a dollop of hot glue onto the back of a rhinestone and carefully pressed it against the fabric. Years of practice had left her a very quick and efficient rhinestone-gluer, and it was hard to keep her mind from wandering. And as always it kept creeping back to Dipper, like a tongue to a missing tooth.  _ No, none of that skeevy stuff, quit it! _

_Think about the play,_ she told herself desperately. She continued gluing one rhinestone after another, thoroughly bedazzling a doublet for Duke Orsino. Mr. McMahon, the music teacher and director of the play, had warned her not to “mabelify” the costumes _too_ much. He’d reminded her that ‘less is more’ and that they didn’t want a repeat of last year’s production of ‘Oklahoma!’. _Well,_ Mabel huffed to herself, _Less is_ not _more. Obviously more is more or it wouldn’t be called ‘more’! And ‘Oklahoma!’ was fabulous!_ _Maybe Jud wouldn’t have been such a jerkface if he’d sewn sequins onto his overalls!_

Mabel smiled to herself at the memory of some of her best and sparkliest work, but turned her attention back to ‘Twelfth Night’. She glanced over at the matching outfits she had made for Viola and Sebastian’s respective first scenes. She liked to think that they had worn matching outfits onto the boat together before getting shipwrecked and cross-dressing got them all mixed up. They were her favorite costumes for the play, and had been since the drawing board. In her first sketch, on a silly impulse, she had drawn Dipper’s old pine tree hat onto the faceless little dude she’d drawn and giggled at the thought of her level-headed, anxious, generous brother as Sebastian, who in her opinion was kind of a butt. 

_ It’s still nice to think about _ , she admitted, gazing at the blue dress and the blue trouser and jacket set, laid out next to each other on the floor,  _ if it were me and Dip _ . In those sparkly matching outfits, lying side by side on the floor like that,  _ just us. _ Like maybe while she was taking a break from all this bedazzling and sewing, when Dip told her she was working too hard. It was so easy to picture, just the two of them, lying on the floor in those pretty clothes. They’d be laughing and talking, while she twisted some of the pretty black lace from one of Olivia’s gowns between her fingers, and Dipper would lean over and kiss her--

“Ugh!” Mabel threw down the glue gun on the table in frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to fight back the angry tears that were threatening to fall. Her eyes hurt, she realized,  _ badly _ . Probably from staring at too close a distance at little rhinestones and beads and stitches for hours.  _ Sure, yeah, that’s it. Just working too hard. _ She opened her eyes and picked up the glue gun, wiping off the heated tip with a scrap of fabric, unplugging it, and wrapping the cord around the handle. She hastily cleaned up, scooping handfuls of sequins and spools of thread into little baggies and bins. There were finished and unfinished costumes lying all around her little craft corner in the basement den, and she set about picking them up. Mabel didn’t want to touch those pretty blue costumes for Viola and Sebastian, though she loved them. When all the others were picked up, she glared down at them for a moment, with her hands on her hips.

_ It could never be like that, Mabesy,  _ she told herself resignedly,  _ There’d be another blue dress, and someone in it. There would have to be one for Jo. _ Mabel felt a painful stab of guilt in her heart. She loved her sister and she loved having a sister. But the idea of being twins instead of triplets, of being Dipper’s only sister, his  _ special _ sister, it appealed to some deep dark part of her that she hated. 

_ Jo wouldn’t even wear a dress. _ She thought about when mom had made Jolene wear a dress to their cousin Alan’s wedding, and how she had fought tooth and nail to get out of it. And how self-conscious she was in it, tugging it down to cover her scabby knees and pulling it up to contain her generous cleavage. Mabel had loved her own dress, a frothy green number that came with a dreamy sea green shawl. She remembered how she’d lent the shawl to Jo and how gratefully she had wrapped it around herself, instantly more at ease by covering up a little. “Thanks, Miss-Sis,” she’d said, with a kiss to Mabel’s nose, “You’re the bestest.” Her emerald green eyes had been so big with gratitude behind her glasses, the green so beautifully complimented by the shawl.

Mabel left the Viola and Sebastian costumes on the ground and walked up the creaky stairs out of the den, turning off the light switch at the top of the stair without a glance behind her. She went right up the other staircase to the bedrooms upstairs, without stopping in the kitchen for a bite to eat. There was a bag of gummy koalas in her backpack with her name on it. As she reached the top of the stairs, she heard her siblings talking and followed the sound.  _ I could use some normal good trip times _ , Mabel decided. She reached Dipper’s bedroom door and halted. 

Dipper was sitting on his bed, in pajama pants and an old Mystery Shack tee shirt, holding a ragged dog-eared book in his hand, a pen sticking out of his mouth. His hair was wet, so he must have already showered. He had learned to shower at night so as to avoid fighting over the bathroom with his sisters in the morning. He was reading aloud a passage about some mysterious urban legend or crop circle or something, his speech hardly impeded by the pen after years of practice. Jolene was lying on the bed, still in her jeans (the cute ones that hadn’t been too torn and stained on hikes and mystery hunts yet) and a green tank top. Her head rested  in Dipper’s lap and she was jotting down notes on what he was saying in a spiral-bound notebook. She held the notebook too close to her face, allowing her to see it without her glasses. As always, the two looked wonderfully relaxed with each other.

_ In whatever bonkers universe Dipstick ever decides to lean over and kiss his sister,  _ Mabel realized with stinging clarity,  _ it’s not going to be me. _


	2. Adventure Awaits

“This is really no time to be playing it safe, Dip-man,” Jolene said, dropping her notebook on the bed to the left of her and looking up at her brother, “Go big or go home.”

“You  _ know  _ I think that phrase is dumb, Jo,” Dipper said, his face still obscured by his book, “Like yeah, you could go small and get to go home afterwards  _ oooor _ you could go big, die at the talons of some monster you can’t take, and not come home again. But like you went big, so, somehow that’s better? Like surviving to go home is part of the goal?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard it a zillion times, Dipper,” Jo rolled her eyes exaggeratedly although he wasn’t looking. Triplet sense would fill him in.

It did. He dropped his thoroughly dog-eared and annotated copy of William Thomas Cox’s ‘Fearsome Creatures of the Lumberwoods’ (a seminal text for them that nearly rivaled Uncle Ford’s journals) and looked down at his sister, frowning up at him from his lap, “I know, sis,” he said, in a wearily sympathetic tone, “But it’s just a stupid competition! It doesn’t even have a cash prize or anything. It’s not worth risking our necks.” 

Jo rolled her eyes again, even harder than before, as she pulled herself into a sitting position and locked eyes with her brother, “C’mon, Dip, no risk, no gain! Think about what Grunkle Stan always says, you gotta spend money to make money!”  
Dipper gave a dismissive laugh, “Sure, yeah, but he always follows it with whispering ‘or you could just make it _look_ like you spent money’. Forgot that part, Jo.”

“Okay, okay, not my point!” Jo explained, exasperated but grudgingly amused by the thought of her Grunkle’s antics, “My point… Adventure, Dipper!” she said, wide-eyed and grinning, fanning out her hands, “It’s not about the contest, or any cash prize, or just making it  _ look _ like we took a chance… it’s about  _ adventure _ ! I know you wanna see the crazy stuff that’s out there with your own eyes, just as bad as I do!”

She made a good case for it,  _ she always does _ , Dipper noted, but he was cautious. He was the cautious one of them, it was his job. He had to be. If he wasn’t, he and his sister would have recklessly walked into the nightmare jaws of  _ something _ before they’d ever reached puberty. And she had that look in her eyes that he knew so well. It was at times like this she looked least like Mabel, who, though she absolutely had her own brand of impulsive craziness, did not have Jo’s taste for danger. Her green eyes twinkled with a zealous light that always reminded him more of Wendy than of his sister. Dipper’s stomach did an uneasy somersault at the comparison to his first major crush, and pushed the thought away, “Jo, listen…”

“ _ Jo, listen, _ ” Jo mimicked with an impatient ‘blah-blah-blah’ hand gesture.

“Ha ha, I know, I’m a total lame stick in the mud, my feelings are so hurt,” it was his turn to roll his eyes, “Will you just hear me out, please?” Jo gave an overblown sigh, before giving him a ‘go on’ signal, “I hear what you’re saying. Of course I wanna go after adventure, of course I want to see some cool stuff. I know that’s not actually in question at all and you’re just trying to prod me into doing something dumb,” Jolene shrugged but couldn’t suppress a mischievous ‘you got me’ smile, “I want to track and find some weirdo thing that’s never been proven, I wanna win that contest and be in ‘Mystery Monthly’…”

“But…?” Jo offered.

“But…” Dipper picked up, nodding, “I just think the Lone Pine Mountain Devils are biting off more than we can chew.”

“But Dip!” Jo insisted, “They’ve  _ never _ been photographed! They still haven’t figured out what happened to those kids that went missing in 2010! They might be surviving dinosaurs! Or, or, they might be--”

“I know, Jo-jo, I know, I  _ know _ , okay?” she quieted, but crossed her arms stubbornly, “I know everything about them there is to know, just like you.” He sighed, “But by every account there is, they’re ruthless and there’s a lot of them! We go out there, ill-equipped, without backup, we end up just like those Spanish settlers in 1878 or those stupid high school kids.”

Dipper hated seeing the way his sister’s shoulders slumped when she lost an argument,  _ but better disappointed now than devoured by Lone Pine Mountain Devils later _ , he reminded himself. If they actually found something, and actually won, and actually got their findings published, they could maybe gain the support to think about something like looking for the Devils. It was a lot of ifs, but playing it safe now could pay off later. He knew Jo would sooner dive headlong into it, but not on his watch.

“Well, Mr. Smarty-pants-know-it-all,” Jo said, her frown curling up slightly, “What considerably less cool thing do you want to look for instead of the way cooler thing I suggested?”

“How about Tessie?” Dipper suggested, grabbing his book again and opening it to the page for Tahoe Tessie, California’s very own beloved Loch Ness Monster, “I know it’s been done, but there hasn’t been a serious investigation in like forty years, by all accounts the creature isn’t actually aggressive,  _ and _ we know from experience to bring more than seventeen disposable cameras.”

Jolene forced a smile,  _ is that reminder supposed to make me feel better or shut me up? _ She wondered, studying her brother’s expectant face,  _ as always, Dip’s the authority, because what do I know? It’s not like I’ve been on a  _ real _ adventure.  _ But, whatever he had meant by it, Dipper was waiting for an answer, waiting for her to concede like she always did. It was hard to say no to her best friend, and although the Lone Pine Mountain Devils were undeniably the cooler option, it wasn’t as if she  _ didn’t _ want to see ole Tessie too. That uncanny triplet sense was kicking in again because Dipper’s smile broadened a second after she changed her mind, and she couldn’t help but smile back, “Alright, bro-tective, you win,” she said, “Tessie it is.”

“Mystery Kids?” Dip said, offering a fistbump.

_ Ya can’t leave a fistbump truce hanging, _ Jo thought, bumping her fist to his, “Mystery Kids.”

 


	3. The Power of Mabel

It was almost two in the morning when Jolene crept from Dipper’s room across the hall to the room she shared with her sister. She was careful to open the door quietly, but found the light still on, Mabel sitting up in bed going over her ‘Twelfth Night’ script, apparently taking down notes about props and costumes that weren’t finished. She popped a couple of gummy koalas into her mouth and gave a wave without looking up at the door, “‘Sup, Jo-jo?”

“Not much, Mabey,” Jo said, walking over to her dresser and opening her pajama drawer, “Just hanging with that dumb brother of ours.”

“Ha!” Mabel closed her script, “I think I know the one.” She was quiet for a sec, watching her sister change into an old pair of sweats and tee shirt,  _ how does she make a ratty old tee shirt look so hot?  _  “Sooo…” she said, “You guys settle on a critter to stalk for that contest thinger?”

Jo knew she was asking to be polite, but appreciated it anyway. Although Mabel had accompanied her trusty wombmates on countless forays into the unexplained, it had been established years ago that she did not have Dipper or Jo’s penchant for it. But she was a good sister and a good friend, and always showed the most genuine interest she could in their many schemes. _And yet_ , Jo bemoaned for the zillionth time, _she was there that summer while I was stuck in summer school here._ Although she was just as bright as her triplets, and comfortably smug about it, she’d never gotten consistently good grades like them. School was reductive, and no one liked her, and worst of all, it was _boring_. Jolene had never done well with rules, and she did even worse with boredom. _I’m a woman of action,_ _I wasn’t meant to sit in a classroom with a bunch of Neanderthals, listening to a teacher drone on about some shit I already know._ But how many times had she wished, that fateful summer and since, that she had just sucked it up and done her work in seventh grade? _While they were in Oregon, saving the world and coming to terms with their strengths and stuff, I was sitting in a classroom that smelled like B.O. and redoing work that I should have just done the first time._

“Earth to Joleeene,” Mabel sang.

“Huh?” Jo withdrew from her memory, “Oh, yeah, we’re going to look for Tahoe Tessie.”

“Ah! A fine choice, mademoiselle,” Mabel said with a flourish, imitating a smarmy French waiter.

“Merci, merci,” Jo joked back, hopping into her bed adjacent to her sister’s. Mabel’s phone announced the receipt of a text with the oink of a pig and she picked it up at once to read and respond. Jo casually studied Mabel, as she had every day for almost seventeen years. As usual, she marvelled at Mabel’s effortless femininity. The girls had always had a striking resemblance, and they still did, but to Jolene the difference was like night and day. Mabel was ever the vision of girliness, her quirky touches not detracting from it at all. Petite and slender and lithe, her curves were modest and lovely, never demanding undue attention. Her long curly hair fell halfway down her back, in ever-perfect waves, her fingernails and toes were always painted in bright colors, and one couldn’t look at her without being drawn into her big brown doe eyes. Even her PJs had frills and bows and a pattern with silly little pink watermelon slices. Those flouncy little pink pajama shorts made it impossible not to admire the graceful line of her leg, the pale flawless skin that disappeared beneath the ruffled trim--

_ Stop it, freak! _ Jolene threw her gaze angrily to the opposite side of the room from Mabel, kicking herself for letting her thoughts wander into that weird stupid gross place that they so loved to visit.  _ She’s your sister, dammit, and besides that she’s way out of your league! _ Jo knew the voice in her head was telling the truth about this. Of course they were fraternal, but people often mistook them for identical twins, and it took so much willpower not to laugh in their face. Obviously they were only being polite. Where girliness and cuteness came naturally to Mabel, things like memorizing trivia and starting a campfire came naturally to Jo. Not that she didn’t value those things or whatever, but sister or not, she was no kind of match for a girl like Mabel. Where Mabel was slim, Jo fought always with a pudgy midsection and curves she’d just as soon conceal. Where Mabel’s hair shone and curled in pretty nut-brown waves, Jo’s was brassy and frizzed in the presence of the slightest humidity. And it wasn’t just looks, Jolene figured she’d looked fine despite her complaints, but Mabel was a people magnet! Charming and silly and thoughtful, she could make friends with anyone in a minute flat. She remembered people’s birthdays and made them laugh and helped transfer students find their lockers and homerooms without being asked.  _ And I’m a cranky jerk with a chronic need of an attitude adjustment. _

Mabel finished responding to the text and replaced her phone on her bedside table. She rolled onto her side to face Jo and rested her head on her hand, “So, that was Brandon Cooper. Dude wants me to do his measurements  _ again _ .”

Jo laughed, “Seriously? What is this, like the fifth time he’s asked?”

“Well, only third, but honestly,” Mabel continued, “At first I thought he was like insecure or whatnot, that like he didn’t want me to think he was fat or wanted his costume to not be too tight or whatever? And like he isn’t fat so that was kinda weird but like he’s nice enough, I guess? But a third time is just redonk. Antonio isn’t a huge character anyway and I already finished making his costumes and just in case I gave it an elastic waist so like… I dunno, I think he maybe just wants to hang out with the Mabel.”

“Well,” Jo gave a theatrical knowing look, “I mean, who can blame him?”

“Yes, yes,” Mabel gave a small swish of her hair, “Of course, no one can resist the power of Mabel.”

Jo laughed, “It always comes back to the power of Mabel with you.”

“Even  _ I _ am powerless to the power of Mabel!” Mabel insisted, landing her fist on the mattress with conviction.

“Okay, well, that makes just about zero sense, Miss-Sis,” Jo pointed out, through laughter, “But anyway, like, do you think the power of Mabel is strong enough to grow Mr. Brandon a pair?”

“Pssh,” Mabel made a dismissive gesture, “Even Mabel is not that mighty. He had  _ his mom  _ ask Kelsey Beechman to homecoming for him.”

Jo pulled a face, “Oh, honey. Yeah, he’s beyond even your considerable influence.” Mabel nodded in agreement, “So how’s everything else going with the play?”

“Well, Mr. McMahon told me not to ‘mabelify’ it too much, as in use the sparkly in moderation,” she elaborated.

“Naturally, Mabelness is synonymous with sparkliness,”

“Abso-tively,” Mabel agreed appreciatively, “The power of Mabel compels me to bedazzle,” Jo chuckled, happily listening as her sister explained how she had  _ tried _ moderation but one piece after another simply  _ wasn’t _ sparkly enough. She could fume all she wanted about her sister, but when push came to shove, she was no more capable of resisting the power of Mabel than any other mere mortal.

 


	4. Morning Mania

There were many ways in which the triplets differed from each other, but across the board, they were  _ not _ morning people. Although Mabel tended to be the closest to human in the morning, all three would have much rather been curled up in bed. Their breakfasts differed considerably. Dipper nursed a cup of black coffee and a couple slices of toast in grumpy bed-headed silence. Jolene consistently had the biggest appetite and put away a banana, some corn flakes, and a piece of toast that Dipper had pushed away with a grunt, all the while re-reading the current issue of ‘Mystery Monthly’ that detailed the ‘Explain the Unexplained’ contest that they were submitting to. And Mabel ate a bowl of sugary cereal with strawberry milk and extra marshmallows added. They had accepted their different eating habits years ago, and as long as they were in agreement that breakfast was no time for a conversation, they got along perfectly well in the morning.

Unfortunately, their parents still had not gotten the memo on the Morning Conversation Moratorium, and often chose this time to try to get the three zombies impersonating their children to open up to them. Their mom had already left for work, but their father, who worked from home a couple days a week, stood in his bathrobe and PJs by the stove, with a cup of coffee, trying to engage his three uncooperative offspring. 

Mabel loved her parents, and knew her siblings did, too. They were caring, involved, and made a decent effort to know and support their kids. But honestly, since long before they could talk, the triplets had formed their own language, and their own little family unit. Weirdness seemed to have skipped a generation in the Pines family, and their parents had always had a hard time truly relating to their off-beat kids.  _ It must be hard _ , Mabel thought compassionately,  _ Being an outsider to the Mystery Kids. _

“Heya, Scout,” dad said, addressing Jo by the nickname mom and dad had given her as a small girl, “Ya reading about more of those cryptics you and your brother are always so jazzed about?”

“Cryti _ d _ s,” Jo mumbled, by way of response.

“That’s it. Hey, tomato, to-mah-to, am I right?”He replied.

“Sure, dad,” Jo said on autopilot.

Dad took a slow sip of coffee and Mabel jumped on the chance to interrupt the polite dad question game before it went on another agonizing second, “So, daddy, any thoughts about what’s for dinner tonight? I saw pork in the fridge.”

“My little detective, just like your brother and sister, I swear!” He joked, before launching into detailed descriptions of the different preparations he was considering. Mabel wasn’t the kind of elaborate cook dad was, but she liked listening to him talk about it. He got excited about cooking. It was a creative outlet for him, and she could sympathize with just about any kind of creative outlet. Jo caught her eye and mouthed ‘thank you’ for stopping the AM interrogation she’d been receiving. Mabel gave her a wink. 

A moment later, dad was tapping an imaginary watch on his wrist and reminding them that it was almost time to go. In near-silence, they fetched their respective school bags, bid dad ‘seeya’, and headed out the door.

“Last one to the car’s a unicorn!” Mabel challenged the instant they were outside, breaking into a sprint. They might have been the only three kids who took the insult of ‘unicorn’ so seriously, but all three were running hard in an instant. The green station wagon they’d all pitched in for was parked on the street by the mailbox. They had all shared the cost of the car, and therefore all felt they had a claim to naming rights. While Jo insisted on calling it the Mystery Machine (which her siblings deemed to be too on-the-nose), Dipper called it The Chariot, citing some junk about Apollo and triads, but Mabel always fondly referred to it as Aoshima. Aoshima wasn’t more than ten yards from the door, so it was a brief race, however fierce the competition. Mabel reached the car first and hopped into the coveted passenger seat, Jo second, immediately claiming the driver’s seat with her butt and adjusting the mirrors, while Dipper reached the car a second later with a groan.

“Ah, Dipper, stain on our family name,” Jo mocked haughtily through the open driver’s side door, “Ever the unicorn in our midst.”

Dipper opened the driver side door to the backseat and groaned again. Behind Mabel’s seat back, the backseat was piled high with props and costumes for the High School’s production of ‘Twelfth Night’. He thought all of the bits of fabric peeking out were a little too bedazzled to be believable for the Elizabethan era, but thus was the way of Mabel. He climbed in behind Jo, uncomfortably folding his legs against the back of her seat, “Hey, Jo-jo, think you could scoot that seat up a little?”

“Dipper,”Jo said in a scandalized tone, “I need my seat here  _ to drive. _ Don’t you realize your  _ life _ is in  _ my _ hands??”

“Yes, and I’m wishing I’d put a little more work into my will…” Dipper grumbled, accepting his fate.

As they tore out of the driveway, Mabel pushed a cassette tape into the player and gave them both a grin, which they returned. Their tried-and-true Manic Morning Mix spilled out of the speakers, and all three triplets burst into song, off-key. Mabel thought about their parents, how much they didn’t understand that breakfast was no time for talking.  _ They also don’t understand that car rides are a time for rejoicing! _ The first day the trips had driven themselves to school in their car, they’d had a celebratory sing-a-long. That had been a special occasion. Then they repeated it the following day and the following day, and in no time it was a routine.  _ We’re all so busy now with so much dumb junkum,  _ Mabel thought, glancing at the rear-view mirror at the heap of costumes it reflected,  _ sometimes this is the only time we’ve got to let the Trip Flag fly. _

She leaned to the side a little so that the mirror showed her Dipper instead. He was taller than his sisters by a head and his long legs were uncomfortably bent towards his chest, but he wasn’t complaining. He was happily singing along at full volume, intermittently drumming along on his raised knees, a completely different person than the coffee zombie that had sat at the kitchen table. She loved seeing him like this, bobbing his head and tossing his hair like a nerd while he sang, his smile never budging. 

_ It’s a shame the people at school never get to see them like this, _ Mabel considered, as she often did. Although both her siblings had a couple friends, neither was comfortable enough in school to let loose. Whereas letting loose had always kinda been Mabel’s default mode of behavior.  _ So people never even meet the bestest part of them! _ Honestly, Mabel felt sorry for all those people and felt an inward surge of pride and gratitude,  _ I get the bestest part of the bestest people to myself! _

 


	5. Schoolday Blues

Jolene’s pen moved along the lined paper of her Chem notebook purposefully. Mrs. Pepper droned on about something, but it was little more than white noise to her. She watched passively as her pen carved a drawing on the page, not commanding her hand so much as allowing it. There were no photographs of the Lone Pine Mountain Devils. Not a single one. _In the world._ There were various accounts of sightings, although there hadn’t been a serious one recorded in a long time. But Jo felt like she _knew_ them. Like various other cryptids and mysteries, she’d read every word about the Lone Pine Mountain Devils that had ever been published. Likely descended from microraptors, she could see their notorious rows of venomous teeth and bristling feathers as clearly in her mind as if she’d already seen them in person.

And one was emerging on the paper before her. Its formidable jaws hissing, baring row upon row of teeth, its bird-like eyes flashing. Father Justus Martinez had called them “winged demons” in his journal in 1878. _Maybe that’s what makes Dip such a nervous nilly,_ Jo wondered, _he’s had enough of demons for one lifetime._ Her hand screeched to a halt at the thought, a familiar internal war breaking out within her.

 _Bill Cipher_ , Jo thought, wearily, angrily, almost reverently. Mabel and Dipper had already encountered (and defeated) the most formidable mystery they were ever going to find. As scary as some raptor-birds were, they were not the equal of a chaos god. Bile churned bitterly in Jolene’s stomach as she thought once again about the stupid summer classes she had been shackled to while Mabel and Dipper went on the greatest adventure of their lives without her. They had both told her a million times how happy they were that she had been _safe_ , that she hadn’t witnessed Bill’s atrocities, or been tricked by his wiles. _I don’t want_ ‘safe’, Jo seethed, _I’m not afraid of nightmares and I’m_ not _easily tricked._

She knew it was foolish, childish even, to wish she had been there. And as much as she craved an adventure like theirs, she hated Bill Cipher immeasurably more than she was fascinated by him. _He hurt them_ , she reminded herself, a steely loathing taking form within her as always, _No one hurts my Trips and doesn’t pay the price._ And he had. But to her it could just as well have all been an elaborate fiction her sibs made up on the long bus ride from Oregon to California. In fact, she had accused them of just that, of some cruel practical joke, until they’d presented her with proof. They’d told and retold all their stories, finishing each other’s sentences and laughing at private jokes. And Jo had watched and listened and laughed, but every story made her feel smaller and further from them. All three of them had always been inseparable, but suddenly, her brother and sister had been separated from her by an experience nothing could match. They sat before her rattling off stories and in-jokes that she would never be a part of, recounting memories, good and bad, that she could never share.

 _And it’s always gonna be that way,_ Jo frowned down at the drawing in her notebook, hardly seeing the page. _Sure, they love me, but they’re the_ ones _. The best friends who saved the world. Pine Tree and Shooting Star. I’m not on anybody’s zodiac. I’m not a hero to anyone._ She thought back to the first few months after their return, the adoring way Mabel had looked at Dipper, her best friend, her partner in crime, her savior. _And she still looks at him like that._ She’d gotten better at downplaying it, playing it cool and not staring, but Jo knew her better than that. Before that summer, the sisters had been best friends, but by the time it ended, Dipper was Mabel’s favorite. _It was supposed to be me._

“Jolene... _Jolene!_ ” Jo surfaced from her thoughts and for a blood-chilling instant thought the teacher had called on her to answer a question. But looking around the quickly emptying classroom, she realized that the bell had sounded the end of class while she’d been lost in thought. Mrs. Pepper was approaching her desk and Jo slammed her notebook closed before she could see the drawing. She tapped one finger against the notebook cover, “You must learn to pay attention in class, Jolene,” she admonished, “With the grade you got on your last lab, you can’t afford to keep slacking off.”

Jo made a grumble of agreement as she grabbed her things and retreated quickly from the room. She slipped into the press of students, like a fish entering a swift current. The last period of the day had just ended and the hallways buzzed with the palpable relief of students ready to get the hell out of school for the day. It was one of the few times Jo felt a kinship with her classmates. She made her way towards the entrance from the side parking lot where they usually parked.

She’d agreed to help Mabel move stuff for the play out of the car. Dipper had weaseled his way out of it, talking about how much his tutoring mentees needed him with the placement tests that were coming up, and as usual, Mabel let him off the hook. Jo didn’t mind helping her sister, she really didn’t. _I just don’t like double standards._

She resolved to put her crankiness aside when she left the school and emerged into the parking lot. It was a sunny clear March day, and the rush of fresh air was an instant boost to her mood. Jo had always been happier out-of-doors. In addition to the immediate therapy of going outside, Jo’s Triplet sixth sense immediately prickled with the proximity of her sister. There was no way anyone could enter the same space as Mabel and not feel better. _Like candy for all your senses,_ she mused.

She looked around towards where she’d parked that morning and the sight of Mabel nearly stopped her heart. She was wearing her grey skirt with the pink roses on it and at this very moment was bending over through the rolled down back passenger side window, on tiptoe. The thick cotton skirt was lifted up past her thighs, her yellow panties just peeking out. The full length of her slim legs stretched down from the window to the asphalt, her heels lifted out of her turquoise flats. Jolene forced herself to turn away, actually covering her eyes. _Stop it, stop it, stop it, stop it!_ The sight was burned into her mind and she tried desperately to erase the memory of the small crease just slightly visible through the yellow cotton, to ignore the speed of her heartbeat, or worse yet, the telltale tingling in her jeans. _You’re disgusting_ , she reminded herself, before turning around and willing her legs to carry her over to her sister.

“Hey Mabey,” Jo greeted, once she was within several feet, trying with all her might to sound casual, hoping against hope that her voice would not give away her secret shame.

Mabel was grumbling to herself about the task at hand when she heard Jolene behind her. “Howdy-doo, Miss-Sis,” she said, turning around. Man, sometimes it took her breath away how beautiful Jolene was. _She doesn’t even realize,_ Mabel grieved, watching Jo approach her across the parking lot. _She has a great walk_. Mabel looked enviously on Jo’s curves, the swell of her hips in her jeans and the small bounce of full breasts in her tee shirt. Her auburn hair, cut just above her shoulders, swayed with every step. Mabel’s arms were full of plastic bins and shoe boxes spilling over with ribbons and scraps of cloth, but she still managed to shoot her sister a couple finger-guns, hoping to cover up her distraction, “What’s up?”

“Oh, the usual,” Jo said, with a shrug, reaching into the car and retrieving several garment bags stuffed with costumes, all that remained of the play stuff,  “School is dumb, I’m smarter than all those suckers, fuck the system?”

Mabel laughed, “Yeah, of course. Same old, same old.”

“So where are we taking this stuff?” Jo asked.

“Oh, we can just scoot it on over to the choir room for now,” Mabel said, setting off in that direction, “That’s where my sewing stuff is.”

“You’re gonna stay here and _sew_?” Jo couldn’t keep the incredulous tone out of her voice. Mabes nodded, “You’re crazy, Miss Mabel.”

“Crazy?” Mabel turned to her sister as they reached the door, “I’m not _crazy_. No, I might be the only _sane, capable_ person _in_ this production!” She stomped in the door once Jo opened it, “What’s absolutely _crazy-bonkers-bullwinkle_ ,” she dropped her armful of stuff on top of the piano to punctuate her point and put her hands on her hips, “Is that we start dress rehearsals in _three days_ and _this week_ Liz and Jeremy _both_ quit on me, so I have to finish all the costumes _alone!_ ”

Mabel’s lower lip was quivering with frustration, a signal Jo knew well to mean that tears may come at any moment. Hastily hanging up the garment bags on the rack by the door, Jo closed the distance between them and folded her sister in her arms, “Whoa, there, hey,” she petted the soft curls of Mabel’s hair, “Take it easy, you’ll be okay.”

Mabel shuddered a couple times and gave a dry sob, but no tears came, “Thanks, sissy,” she said against Jo’s shoulder, “I should get a-workin’.”

“You need me to pick you up later?” Jo asked, holding her shoulders at arm’s length.

Mabel shook her head, “Nah, Mr. McMahon said I could use the music van if I needed to and that way I can come in early tomorrow without bothering you sleepy-dweebs.”

“Okie doke,” Jo kissed the tip of her sister’s nose, “Go easy on yourself, Mabey.”

Mabel gave her an appreciative smile and started unpacking the things she’d just carried in, “Seeya at the ole homestead,” she said without looking up. As Jo reached the door, Mabel called after her, “Give that flaky brother of ours a punch from me!”

Jo snorted, reaching a thumbs up back through the door before going.

 


	6. Planning

_He’s never gonna pass that test,_ Dipper thought to himself as he turned his key in the front door, _The best tutor in the world could not get that idiot to understand Trig._ Most of the time, Dipper enjoyed mentoring other students, he really did. It was a fun way to keep his own knowledge sharp, it was rewarding to help people, it paid well, and it was one of the only ways he ever met people that didn’t make him feel like a total doofus. But sometimes there was a kid like Scott D’Agostino, who was just not interested in learning and too dumb to do it anyhow.

No sooner did he get in the door than he received a stinging punch to the shoulder, “Youch!” He cried, wincing at the small crack his voice gave. _Isn’t that supposed to stop someday?_ He whirled around automatically to see the assailant, although the loud chortling gave it away. Jo was standing right by the door, laughing hard right at him. Dipper tried to summon the anger to glare at her properly, “What the heck was that for, Jo-jo?”

“ _That_ ,” she explained, through the tail end of her laughter, “Was from Mabel.”

“Ooookay, but Mabel doesn’t hit that hard,” he said, rubbing his arm, “That was a Jolene punch, in the name of Mabel, maybe.”

“You know what they say,” she made a fist threateningly, “Don’t question the messenger.”

Dipper shook his head a little bemusedly, “That isn’t what they say.”

“She _also_ says you’re flaky,” Jo paused and stroked her chin thoughtfully, “ _Actuallyyy_ , I’m not sure the ‘flaky’ thing was a message I was supposed to deliver or just a descriptor... but regardless. One punch, to flaky brother, sincerely, Mabel.”

Dipper rolled his eyes and walked away towards the stairs, plodding up to his room with Jolene at his heels. As he pushed open his bedroom door, he asked, “So, why exactly is Mabel sending me punches?”

“Because you’re flaky,” Jo said, as she plopped down on his bed, “I’m preeetty sure I just said that like about a second ago?”

“Okay, yeah, yeah, enough of this,” he waved his hand between them, “ _thing_ we’re doing. Why am I flaky?”

Jo picked her nails, “I dunno, I think because you used tutoring to get out of helping her unload the Mystery Machine? I’m honestly not sure.”

“Mabel is ever a mystery to us all,” Dip sighed, taking a seat next to his sister and grabbing his laptop from his desk.

“But we like mysteries,” Jo reminded him, with the curl of a smile.

Dipper laughed, “We love mysteries.” They lapsed into silence, both patiently watching his computer booting up. _We love Mabel_ , he repeated to himself. It had always been second nature that the triplets loved each other, something assumed and frequently said. But in the last few years, it had gotten so much harder to tell when it was appropriate to say it and when it wasn’t. _It’s never the wrong_ time _to say it, just the wrong_ reason _to say it._

Impatient with his zoning out, Jo reached over to type in his password--“d3cip3r thi5”--for him, and the smell of her pulled him right back. _Why do girls smell so good?_ Dipper wondered, breathing in her scent without being too obvious. Jo smelled a little like fresh-cut grass, like hard green apples, and the vanilla shampoo she shared with her sister. _But Mabel…_ Mabel smelled like ripe strawberries, like apple pie with ice cream. He’d spent a lot of time thinking about how marvelous it was that the two of them could in a way smell so alike and so different, just as they _were_ so alike and so different.

“Okay, Dip-man,” Jo said, “If we’re going up to Tahoe this weekend, I’m _sure_ you have some meticulous plan to give me.”

Dipper couldn’t help but grin at that, as he opened up ‘operationtessie.doc’, which he had worked on last night after bidding Jo goodnight. He’d needed to do something. He’d learned the hard way that going to sleep with either, or _oh god_ _ **both**_ , of his sisters on his mind had unsavory consequences, “It might be my best plan yet.”

Jo groaned, “Dip, _pleeeease_!” she pointed at the four-page document displayed on his screen, “These plans _never_ work!”

“So, then what?” Dipper scoffed, “Do you want to just drive up to Tahoe and go in there without a plan like a couple _amateurs_?”

“No, I’m not an idiot,” Jo said, “But we’ve seen it a zillion times! While you’re checking off boxes on your stupid lists and trying to follow your compass and taking proper “ _precautions”_ ,” Jo punctuated with particularly scathing air-quotes, “Big Foot and all his buds are having a tea party in front of you and _you don’t even see it_.”

“Sure, sure,” Dipper agreed sarcastically, “Instead of taking _precautions_ I should have _no caution_? We’re not going out there to drink tea with Tessie, we’re going to get a picture, observe, and go. If we do it right, she’ll never even know we were there.”

“We might as well go bird-watching,” Jolene huffed.

Dipper had to take a deep breath, _why did they have to have this conversation_ every _time?_ He sighed, “Jo, no. It’s not boring. It’s _never_ boring. I’m just trying to keep us alive.”

“Okay, okay, _fine_ ,” she crossed her arms, “We can go in with one of your plans, that’s cool, I get it, but we _need_ to trim this baby down! We’re never gonna stick to a plan this convoluted.”

“ _Convoluted?_ ” Dipper bristled, “You haven’t even read it yet!”

“Fair point,” Jo said, plucking his laptop from his hands. She scooted back against the wall, bent her legs in front of her and set to reading, tapping the trackpad every few seconds. Dipper’s frustration quieted as he watched her read. Her glasses had slid down the bridge of her nose, and her green eyes ran swiftly across the lines of typed text. The light of the screen glowed on her face, the corner of her lip just curling up in a curious smile.

Whenever he looked at her or Mabel for too long, he could feel the butterflies convening in his stomach. _Why do you have to make it weird?_ He asked himself, impatiently, _You’re lucky to have been born with the two best friends anyone could ever ask for, and you gotta go and make it a weird sex thing?_ It wasn’t that simple, and he knew it. _It isn’t about sex, although goddamn is sex part of the problem._ He tried, as he always did, to imagine he’d never noticed his sisters were girls. Maybe if he’d never noticed they were girls, they all could have just kept on being normal codependent siblings and left it at that. _It’s not just because they have a second X-chromosome,_ he knew. He’d been friendly with plenty of girls, even pretty, vivacious ones like his triplets, without ever thinking of them this way. It’s what made saying he loved them so hard. Because he’d known for a long time now that he loved them, both of them, much more than a brother should.

“Okay, bro-tective, here ya go,” Jo said, handing him back the laptop. At least two-thirds of the text was highlighted in fluorescent green.

“Ouch, my eyes,” Dipper joked, making a show of squinting at the screen, “Whaddya do to it?”

“I highlighted all the junk that has to go,”Jolene said matter-of-factly.

Dipper resisted the impulse to reject the idea, and instead tried to consider Jo’s suggestions. As he went, he deleted most of them, secretly grieving for the work he’d put into it. By the time he’d reached the bottom, the document had shrunk to a page and a half in length, “There,” he said, “Is that better?”

“Hmm,” Jo chewed her lower lip and Dipper tried desperately not to stare at the way the blood rushed back, restoring the rosy color, each time her teeth released it, “You left the thing about life jackets. We’re both really good swimmers, do we _really_ need life jackets?”

“Yes, Jolene,” Dipper said, running his hand down his face in frustration, “The life jackets are non-negotiable.”

She considered it, skimming the list again for the handful of highlighted items that remained, “So you’re really serious about bringing _eighteen_ disposable cameras? We have both our phones and the digital.”

Dipper shook his head and held up both hands, “Digital or otherwise, the cameras stay.” He laughed darkly, “ _Not_ making that mistake again.”

“But didn’t you use the one under your hat anyw--”

“Not the point,” Dipper interrupted Jo’s correction, “The cameras go, I go.”

“Pssh, such a drama queen,” she said with a light punch to his shoulder. She considered the list a moment longer and shrugged, “Okay, it’s good.”

“It’s good?!” Dipper exclaimed happily, turning to face her.

“It’s good,” she confirmed, smiling, “Nice work, Dip-man.”

“Thanks,” he said, pride glowing in his chest, offering a fist bump, “Tahoe Tessie, watch out for the Mystery Kids.”

Jo fistbumped him hard, “Mystery Kids, yo!”

 

 


	7. Surprise Bacon

It was late when Mabel got home, parking the van by the mailbox. She was dead tired and ready to sleep. Her fingertips and eyes were stinging from the hours of sewing and gluing. Her stomach rumbled in complaint that she hadn’t eaten since lunch in the cafeteria hours before. _Okay,_ she bargained with her body, _a bite to eat and then straight to beddy-bye for us._ She trudged up to the door, fumbled for her keys in her shoulder bag for a rattling moment before extracting them and unlocking the door. She locked it again behind her, slipped her keys back in the bag, and dropped it heavily by the door. Mabel’s stomach growled at her angrily again, and she patted it appeasingly as she dragged her feet to the kitchen.

“Welcome home, Madam Seamstress,” Dipper greeted her from the kitchen. She was surprised to see him, but gathered her wits quickly. After all, it was old news that he was a night owl.

“Howdy Dipdot,” she replied, a little flatly.

Dipper was in the process of making himself a grilled cheese and it smelled heavenly. He must have seen her staring at the frying pan because he laughed and asked, “Do you want one?” She nodded rapidly and he laughed again, “Cool, you can have this one in a sec. I’ll just make myself another.” he gave her a once-over, “You look like you need it more than I do.”

“Thanks a lot,” Mabel spat, a little grumpily.  
“Okay, okay,” Dipper held up his hands, spatula in the right, in surrender, “Just sit down at the table, hangry-pants.”

“‘M’not hangry,” Mabel grumbled, as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

“That’s exactly what hangry Mabel would say, but okay,” Dipper said, lifting the grilled cheese out of the pan and sliding it onto a plate, handing it to Mabel. He set about assembling another grilled cheese for himself and asked Mabel tentatively, “Sooo… I guess today wasn’t so great?”

“Ha, what gave you that impression?” Mabel asked drily, eating her way around the crust.

“Well, you coming in at two in the morning famished was one clue, but--”

“Ohmigosh, there’sh _bacon_ in here!” Mabel exclaimed with her mouth full of grilled cheese, “ _Shurprishe bacon!?”_ Dipper nodded, smiling at her enthusiasm. _Even exhausted, no one lights up a room like Mabel_ , he noted before pushing the thought away, buttering the pan and dropping his own sandwich in, “Wait…” Mabel’s brow furrowed, “You only made shuffishent bacon for one shandwich! That’sh not fair!”

Dipper shrugged, “It’s cool, Mabes, you had a bad day.”

Mabel grinned, her cheeks chipmunking from the mouthful of food, “Thanksh, bro-bro.” Mabel munched on her grilled cheese for a couple moments in happy, thoughtful silence. Much as she sometimes tried, it was practically impossible to stay mad at Dip. Without fail, he always put his sisters before himself. _I mean,_ Mabel considered, _it takes a special kinda dude to give away all his bacon._ She looked over at Dipper and felt a surge of pride. He’d always been a great bro, but every once in a while it struck her that he had grown into a really good man. He stood over at the stove, humming to himself and attentively nudging his grilled cheese around the pan. He was wearing last year’s blue Chess Club tee shirt and a pair of thin flannel pajama pants. Dipper had been short like her and Jolene until last year when he had suddenly shot up like a weed. Honestly, she was still getting used to his height. _Tall looks good on him, though,_ she couldn’t help thinking, her eyes drawn almost magnetically to the way the soft PJs draped on his cute little bottom.

“So,” Dip said, interrupting her thoughts as he flipped over his grilled cheese and turned to her, leaning his hip against the counter, “Ya wanna talk about whatever made your day so lame?”

“Well, I was kinda mad at you, Dipstick,” Mabel admitted, taking another bite of grilled cheese, “Up until the point you gave me noms, that is.”

“Always I can buy your forgiveness with noms,” Dipper noted with a crooked smile that made Mabel’s heart race. _Does he have any idea how easily that smile could get him kissed?_ , “Really, though, do you wanna talk about it?”

“Eh,” Mabel shrugged, popping the last bite into her mouth, “Just got saddled with all the costumes.”

“What about Jeremy and Lizzie?” Dipper asked, taking a seat across from her and biting into his grilled cheese, “Weren’t they supposed to help out?”

“Jeremy and Lizzie?” Mabel said, wetting her fingertip to lift buttery crumbs off of her plate. Seeing her place the tip of her finger in her mouth was enough to have Dipper’s blood rushing south. He was grateful for the table between them, shielding her eyes from the traitorous tent rising in his lap, “Those turncoat sons-o’-witches flaked out on me. _Of course._ ” she placed her fingertip just between her lips and it came away wet and clean.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Dipper said, taking a large bite. Chewing gave him a moment to compose himself, “So _they_ flaked, and _I_ got punched? Ya see the problem here?”

“You got--? Oh, Jo-jo?” Dipper could’ve sworn Mabel was blushing, “She actually punched you?”

“She actually punched me?” He gave a disbelieving laugh, “Of _course,_ she punched me! Are we talking about the same Jolene here ‘cause my Jolene is prett-y dangerous.”

Mabel laughed along, even as her newly-satisfied stomach gave a flip. It seemed as though the mention of Jo was all it took. His brown eyes, so like her own, gleamed with a mystery she’d only seen in them a few times. It was a look that always got her heart racing and her cheeks reddening. But he was smiling that wistful smile, with his eyes dark and flashing, _because of Jo._ Mabel cursed the unwelcome twinge in her chest. _Not because of me, because of Jo._ Here they were, acting almost like siblings were supposed to, and always these thoughts came and fudged it up.

It was bad enough to admire Dipper, to want him. To tell herself it was because he was such a great brother, when she knew it was so much worse than that. But worse than this sick, twisted, devastating crush, was the _jealousy._ Thinking of Jolene had become so hard when once they had been best friends in the simplest terms. The image of Jo walking towards her in the sunny parking lot, jeans hugging the curves of her legs, tee shirt clinging to her gently bouncing breasts… it was never easy to tell anymore if she wanted her or wanted to be her. Sometimes all she wanted was to push the fabric out of the way and run her hands along her sister’s skin, to touch her, to taste her, to be close to her. _Maybe getting close enough will make me more like her, maybe if I could just feel--_

“I NEED TO GO TO BED,” Mabel cried out, suddenly enough that Dipper almost choked on a bite of grilled cheese. To be honest, she’d said it to silence her own unwanted thoughts more than to clue Dipper in. Leaving her plate on the table, Mabel stood up stiffly and left the room.

“...goodnight,” Dipper called after her, his food turning to ash in his mouth. He threw down what was left of his sandwich and crossed his arms. _She could tell, you idiot,_ he admonished himself, _might’ve been triplet brain, or maybe it’s just that obvious that you’re a freak._ His heart lurched at the thought of how pale and drawn her face had become before she’d left the table, her eyes full of that strange dark look he could never quite place, a subtle sadness settling on her brow. It seemed like he never got a moment alone with Mabel anymore, and when he did, he always somehow fucked up like this. Dipper sighed, cleared their plates, and trudged up to his room to lie awake in bed.

 


	8. Sister's Lament

They had practically the same hands, but Jo just knew that Mabel’s would feel different than her own. Everything about her would feel different. Jo tried to imagine her round breast was instead Mabel’s smaller perky one, thought of the small peek of pink nipple she occasionally got as Mabel was clasping her bra behind her back. She tried to imagine, as her hand skated down the soft squish of her own tummy that instead she could feel the tight flat expanse of Mabel’s. The very tips of her fingers nudged the waistband of her PJs underneath her blanket, and the fire kindled bright in her.

In the dark of their room, Mabel’s bed still empty a few feet away, Jo was losing hold of herself fast. In her mind’s eye she could clearly see her sister’s favorite pajama shorts, the baby pink ones with the little brightly colored lollipops and pieces of ribbon candy. She could see the way the little strip of scalloped white elastic at the edge would stretch across Mabel’s pelvis, gapping away from her flat tummy in between her hips. It would be so easy to slide her fingers into that inviting shadow the way she slipped her hand into her own pants now.

Her fingers felt cool against the heat of her skin inside her panties, and her breath hitched, wondering if Mabel’s hands would feel cold or warm. _Dipper’s would feel warm and clammy,_ Jo thought, before pushing her brother out of her mind. _Mabey’s hands are usually cold_ , Jolene reminded herself, pretending with all her might that the fingers moving lower and lower on her body did not belong to her. Lightly, lovingly, the way she imagined Mabel would touch, she ran a fingertip along her slit. She felt a little ashamed of how wet she found herself whenever she let her dreams of Mabel carry her away, but her hips lifted off the bed of their own accord, straining for a deeper touch.

Jolene slowly dipped one finger inside of herself, and wondered desperately if Mabel would feel the same. As tight, as warm, as wet. _Oh,, I’d make sure she was even wetter than this,_ Jo boasted inwardly, _If I could ever...if only she’d let me, if only she’d want me too._ The thought of Mabel _wanting_ her, not allowing her out of familial love, but looking on her with desire, was too much. She added another finger to her slick heat and purred into her pillow as she let her hips set their eager rhythm,. A small whimper escaped her, and her imagination filled with all the delicious sounds Mabel might make. _Her voice is always so cute, her laugh is so musical, oh god, oh god, she must sound so sweet._ Jo’s fingers moved faster inside her and a prolonged sigh left her and she wondered, _does Mabel have to fight this hard not to cry out? When she’s touching herself like this, is it this hard for her not to moan and sigh?_

Jo could feel herself grow wetter at the mere thought of Mabel’s fingers moving, slippery and hungrily, into herself. _Do I ever cross her mind when she’s like that?_ Jo wondered, wishing for a world where Mabel secretly yearned for her just like this. She tried to imagine how Mabel would look and sound, squirming and whimpering under her own hand, _and imagining it was_ my _hand._ But no, no, the knowledge came uninvited, _no, she thinks of Dipper._

Once the thought of him came, there was no pushing him away this time. Mabel wouldn’t lie there imagining her sister’s fingers. She’d be wishing instead for that mysterious, enticing part of Dipper, so absent from either of them. _And why not_ , the hungry voice in Jolene’s head asked her, _wouldn’t it feel good inside you? Wouldn’t it feel right to wrap your legs around his waist and see him looking down at you like he has a goddess in his arms?_ Jo never let herself think about Dipper like this. The thoughts of Mabel wouldn’t go no matter how she tried, but the thoughts of Dipper could usually be kept at bay.

It had grown much too hot under Jo’s blanket but she was too close now to risk stopping to throw it aside. The arousal coiled inside her like a spring, growing tenser and tighter, threatening to pop. She gave herself over to her desires, stopped trying to keep these sweet forbidden thoughts away. She allowed herself to imagine the unknown feeling of Dipper’s cock moving inside her, touching her deeper than she could hope to reach herself. She allowed herself to imagine Mabel’s lips against hers, moving wet and fast, tasting exactly like a candy apple. She allowed herself to imagine her hands, her tongue, exploring their bodies as they made love to each other, could hear Mabel’s cries and see the look on her face as Dipper filled her. And she allowed herself to imagine them wanting her, choosing her, including her. Her breathing echoed heavy in her own ears as her orgasm loomed, about to fall, as she allowed herself to imagine giving this exact impending feeling--

The door opened and every cell of Jolene’s body froze. Mabel’s slender silhouette stood in the doorway and hesitated, sighed, before entering. Jo had never been so petrified, her fingers still lodged deep inside her, motionless, her orgasm obliterated before it ever came. _Mabel’s upset,_ Jo could tell instinctively, from the sound and sense of Mabel’s demeanor in the room. She moved quietly and carefully about between her dresser and her bed. Jo caught herself straining to see a glimpse of Mabel’s bare form as she changed and stopped herself, _The fuck is wrong with you, Jolene Pines??_ She closed her eyes tight, to ensure she would quit trying to ogle her sister and wondered what Mabel was upset about. _Does she know?_ Mortification overcame her as she wondered if her sister had seen her, had heard her, could smell her. _Snap out of it, even if she knew, she doesn’t know what you were thinking about. And Mabel wouldn’t be this bent out of shape about you masturbating._

Mabel found her pajamas by feel and changed into them in the dark. She was relieved Jo was asleep, was happy she didn’t have to face her right now. Where Dipper was often dense, Jolene was usually pretty intuitive, particularly when it came to the wellbeing of her sibs. _She’d know something was wrong,_ Mabel knew, swiping a tear from her cheek. And then she’d have to spin some story about being stressed out about ‘Twelfth Night’, _which I am_ , try to pass this off as Hell Week tears. But Mabel _hated_ lying, especially to Dipper and Jo. She asked herself once again how long she could keep this up. _How long am I going to be able to hide my true feelings from the two peeps I trust most in the whole world?_ Her stomach lurched, _but how could I ever tell them the nature of my feelings and expect them not to flip the frick out? I could lose them._ Her will hardened. Losing her Trips was not an option.

Without brushing her teeth or washing her face, Mabel crawled into her bed. How strange it was that some nights, your own bed welcomed you like a hug and other nights the cold sheets just made you feel more alone. She curled up tight in a ball and tried to push all her thoughts of her brother and sister away.

She turned her thoughts desperately to ‘Twelfth Night’. She tried to run through the costume and scene changes in her head from start to finish, picturing how the costumes would look on the cast. With a sinking feeling she remembered she needed to take the van in early to finish the last few costumes. She reached over to set her alarm to wake her in a few hours. Olivia’s bridal gown for the last scene required the most attention. Mabel considered her plan for it, the sweeping train, the jewel-encrusted bodice, the tiara giving way to the floating veil. Its femininity would contrast beautifully with the menswear of both Sebastian and Viola.

She had loved watching that last scene rehearsed and looked forward to seeing it in the dress rehearsals and performances. When the central twins recognized each other and embraced, she always found herself deeply moved. Fear and guilt and relief warred in her. Something in that hug always dragged her back into the surreal bubble of Mabeland, of really seeing Dipper again as he was, not a naysayer of her paradise, but her brother, her best friend, her dearest love. She cringed at her own foolishness, at the true contents of her love for him. As sleep closed in on her, she tried and tried to focus on Viola and Sebastian’s sincere sibling hug, but always it was interrupted by his new wife, by Olivia finally out of mourning and dressed in white, by Jolene in a veil the same sea green as Mabel’s old shawl.

 


	9. Operation Tessie

Friday had felt like it would never end, so great was Dipper’s anticipation for Operation Tessie. But finally, as he knew it would, the day had come. He and Jo had risen early, eaten breakfast, grabbed the packs they had prepared the night before, and backed the Chariot out of the driveway before the sun (or the rest of their family) had stirred from their rest. Dipper had lost the race to the car, as usual, because despite his significantly longer legs, Jolene had the advantage of being a cheater. That meant he had been the one sitting behind the wheel as the sky lightened to a milky hue.

In contrast to their daily drive to school, they hadn’t played any music on the drive. There was something sacred about the pale quiet morning that neither of them wanted to disturb. Jo had sat in the passenger seat, turning the waterproof camera they’d pooled cash for last year absentmindedly in her lap. They had spoken little, both silently prepping for the adventure ahead.

The sun was high in the sky now, shining bright and hot on the woods. Dipper was grateful for the shade of the trees, but still found sweat wetting the back and underarms of his tee shirt. They’d parked the station wagon on the little gravel lot by the trailhead for Cave Rock. Cave Rock was a large natural rock formation on the southeastern shore of Lake Tahoe. The hike to the top was short, easy, and popular. The trips had done it with dad once years ago, and in a photo album somewhere, was a picture of the three of them grinning wide photo-ready smiles with the tableau of the lake behind them. Dipper smiled inwardly to himself thinking of it. He’d stood in the middle of his two sisters, as he customarily did for pictures, wearing the electric blue Monstermon tee shirt that had been brand new and treasured at the time. He still had it in the back of his tee shirt drawer, though it was much to small and worn thin, the decal faded and cracked, in some places peeled off completely. Mabel had been on his right, an explosion of gleeful little girliness. She’d insisted on wearing a cotton candy pink tutu over her jeans, and their parents had allowed it, already knowing better than to stand between Mabel and her overzealous fashion choices. Her hair was pulled into pigtails on either side of her head and she was smiling that signature huge Mabel smile, showing off her uneven pre-braces teeth, eyes directed mischievously at the bunny ears she held poised over Dipper’s head. Jo had stood to Dipper’s left, her shorts revealing scabby knees and bandaids on her shins, battle scars from climbing the knotted branches of the Dogwood tree in their backyard. Her auburn hair, worn longer then than it was now, was fluffing out of a single french braid Mabel had done for her in the car. Jolene wasn’t looking at the camera, though. Although she had a smile obediently plastered on her face, her head was turned so that the photo captured her profile. Her right arm was looped loosely around her brother’s waist, but her left hand shielded her eyes from the glare of the sun, casting a shadow over her face as she looked out of the picture’s borders into the distance, impatient to go back to exploring.

They weren’t doing the hike to the summit of Cave Rock today, though. They had come in the entrance of that trail, but instead of following the white blazes that marked the ascent to the top, they had broken away to make their way toward the water. It was tough going some of the way, when game trails petered off and they had to bushwhack their way through underbrush and tread carefully on uneven ground. They had worn their swimsuits underneath their clothes, in case the need to go in the water should arise, and as the day got hotter and hotter the prospect of swimming was sounding more and more appealing to Dipper. _It’s early enough in the season that the water will be really cold,_ Dipper noted, _Cold sounds pretty damn good right now._

“Are we theeeeere yet?” Jo whined sarcastically, although Dip could hear a tinge of very real impatience in her voice.

“If my estimate’s correct, we oughta get down to water level in the next ten minutes or so,” Dipper replied. He squinted through the trees at the unmistakable glint of the sun on the water’s surface.

“Sir, yes, sir,” Jo said with a stiff salute, “If that’s what your calculations deduced I daresay that hypothesis is sound.”

“Ya know, if you didn’t want an answer, you could have tried _not_ asking me every three minutes,” Dipper pointed out.

“But Bro-tective,” Jo said with a falsely sweet smile, “Your hypotheses are always so exciting.”

Dipper rolled his eyes but smiled. Jo was totally in her element. She never shone as brilliantly as when she was in her hiking boots, traipsing through the woods, hot on the trail of one mystery or other. Like a plant, she wilted indoors but flourished and brightened in the presence of sun and fresh air. She was moving at a brisk pace, taking in her surroundings happily, her focus never wavering from Tessie awaiting them somewhere ahead. She walked ahead of Dipper and the life jacket attached to her pack swung a little from side to side with each step, in unison with her short, springy ponytail. It was all Dipper could do to train his eyes on the orange life jacket and try to keep them from gravitating down to her round bottom.

Jo asked how long it would be twice more before they reached the rocky shoreline. It was common lore that Tessie lived in a subterranean cave beneath Cave Rock and they’d agreed to start their search with that. The leaves and soil gave way to pebbles and flat fragmented stretches of stone underfoot.

“ _Fiiiinally!_ ” Jo exclaimed, spreading her arms and giving one grateful spin before picking up the pace and rushing ahead.

“Wait, Jo-jo!” Dipper called, speeding up to follow her, “Let’s review the plan.”

Jolene gave a prolonged groan, but stopped and turned to face him. She crossed her arms impatiently and pinned him with an unrelenting green gaze. _God, her eyes are amazing out here,_ the sight of them always struck Dipper when they were out amongst the trees like this, “Fine, fine,” she said, “Tell me the plan _again_.”

“I don’t like your tone, young lady,” Dipper said, in his spot-on impersonation of dad.

“Ew, no,” Jo said, covering her ears, “Uncle! _Uncle!_  I’ll listen to the plan. Just please don’t do the dad voice, it’s so skeevyyy!”

Dipper grinned at her dismay and retrieved the typed out plan from the pocket of his swim trunks. He unfolded it and said, “Let’s see… m’kay, we already completed steps 1A through 3C,” he nibbled his lip in lieu of a pen, “Whiiiich brings us to 4A.”

“...which is?” Jo prompted in a bored tone.

“ ‘Upon reaching the shoreline,’ ” Dipper read, “ ‘Assess the presence of any cave openings or irregularities at the base of Cave Rock.’ ”

“No, duh,” Jo grumbled, turning on her heel to do just that.

“It goes on to state the following,” Dipper continued, “ ‘4B1, In the case of no openings or irregularities apparent, fan out in either direction to assess the nearby shore.’ or ‘4B2, In the case of apparent openings and/or irregularities, screen for evidence of preternatural presence (i.e. shed scales, ectoplasm, tracks, or other byproducts of the extra-ordinary).’ ”

“Cool beans, boss,” Jo said, shooting Dip finger-guns, “Or, in layman’s terms, look around for weird stuff.”

Dipper gave a long-suffering sigh, “Yes. Look around for weird stuff.” A companionable silence fell between the two of them as they moved forward, taking in their surroundings carefully in search of ‘weird stuff’.

 


	10. Operation Tessie, Cont'd

Jolene’s body thrummed with the purpose of adventure. She could practically smell Tessie nearby. The banks near the base of Cave Rock were stony and precarious, so, though her mind pushed her to leap into action, she had to proceed with care. Dipper moved along the base of the rock face in one direction while Jo took the other. The anticipation and promise of something, _anything_ , hung too heavy in the air to leave room for errant conversation. She moved along, keeping her eyes peeled for any ‘opening and/or irregularity’.

“Jo-jo! Over here!” Dipper called behind her. He was about twenty feet away but she was beside him in an instant. Before she could ask or he could explain, she saw what he’d seen. There was a small inlet of the lake, no more than six feet across. It looked unremarkable enough, but it was worth further investigation. Jo dropped her pack on the ground and set about unlacing her boots. Dipper stared at her, “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing, brainiac?” she asked, without looking up, peeling off a sock and stuffing it into her shoe, “I’m going swimming.”

“4B2, Jo, we’re looking for evidence of the preternatural,” Dipper reminded her, sounding miffed.

 _To hell with 4B2, I ain’t gettin’ any younger here,_ the voice of adventure complained in Jo’s head, “Yeah, that’s what I’m doin’, Dip-man,” she said, trying to appease him, as she shucked the sock from her other foot and stood in her bare feet on the pebbles, cool in the shade of Cave Rock.

“C’mon, Jo,” Dipper said, his voice taking on some of its old squeakiness as Jolene undid her fly and wiggled out of her jeans, “Can’t you just follow the plan we agreed on?”

“Dipper, _Jesus_ , I already told you I am!” Jo said as she pulled her sweaty tee shirt off over her head. The muscles in her brother’s jaw were tight, his gaze darkening now that she stood in front of him in just her teal one-piece bathing suit, “I’m looking for ‘evidence of the preternatural’ down there, in the ‘opening or irregularity’!” _I love him, but I’m not letting his reticent_ bullshit _stand between me and Tessie,_ Jo thought fiercely, as she nudged Dipper out of her way, and jumped unceremoniously into the water.

“ _Jo!_ ” Dipper called uselessly as his sister’s head disappeared under the water with a splash, “...your life jacket.” He said, effectively to himself, for all the good it did.

Jo kept her eyes open, true to her word that she was looking for evidence. The water was cold, but no colder than she’d expected. She was pleasantly surprised that the water was deeper in the inlet that it had appeared. It had only looked about seven feet deep, but it was never easy to tell with naturally occurring bodies of water like this one. In fact, it was much deeper than that, at least fifteen feet. And beautiful. It was another world. The rocky basin of the lake was worn smooth from thousands of years of gentle currents, and slick and lush everywhere with dark green aquatic vegetation. The muffling effect of water pressure was a welcome otherworldly silence in her ears. The sunlight penetrated the surface and filtered through the lazy waves in slowly-rippling lines of green-blue.

Jo propelled herself forward with one smooth breaststroke and had to resist the instinct to gasp at the sight before her. There was a roughly round opening in the bedrock in front of her. The top of the opening was mere inches below the surface of the water. Desperate to see more before her breath ran out, Jo kicked her legs and pushed herself forward with her arms until she was at the mouth of the opening. It was just under four feet across at its widest part and dark within. Jolene’s heart was racing, wishing with all her heart she could breathe underwater, not wanting to waste time surfacing, knowing Dipper would waste more of her time with his stupid plan. But she could hold her breath no longer.

In the time Jolene had been submerged, Dipper had irritably stripped off his clothes and was securing his life jacket on. Jo’s head broke the surface, gulping deep breaths of air. Before Dipper could get a word in, Jo’s eyes found his. _Oh no,_ he thought, seeing the familiar light of chaotic zeal in her eyes. It was the look his sister got whenever she was on the brink of adventure, when she was feeling alive in the face of danger. She gave him a slightly crazed grin, and said simply, “ _Cave!_ ”

“Jo, you need your life jack--”

“Did you _hear_ me, Dip-man?!” Jo cut him off, “I _found_ a _cave!_ ”

“Okay, but--”

“No, Dip!” She snapped, scrambling out of the water and unfastening her pack, “ _Fuck_ the life jacket! I need a flashlight and the camera!”

Dipper wanted to insist, he wanted to yell at her, to convince her, but his voice died in his throat at the sight of her. Her bathing suit was soaked, and clung to every inch of her body. He could see the small nubs of her nipples, hardening under her suit as the air cooled against her. She bent over to rifle through the contents of her pack, and he was presented with the sight of the wet fabric snug against her rear. He swallowed hard as his gaze followed the cleft of her ass down between her legs, where it became a cleft of an entirely different nature. He could clearly see the shape of her lips and watched, transfixed, as a drop of water gathered and fell from them, distantly aware of his stiffening erection.

Jo had only one thing on her mind and it was getting into that cave. She retrieved the underwater flashlight and the camera in no time and turned back to the water without giving Dipper a second glance. “Oh, fuck it,” she heard him mumble behind her and a splash a second later. She looked over her shoulder to see his head emerging from the water, shaking the water from his hair like a dog. He had ditched his life jacket next to hers.

“Good of you to join me,” she teased, “The cave’s right in front of us, and the mouth is big enough for us to fit through.” She took a deep breath and dove back under without further explanation. Dipper cursed to himself again before following her lead.

She had switched on the flashlight and he instantly saw the cave she had been describing. He swam forward until he was beside her, studying the slippery walls of the cave entrance. His eyes widened at the sight of something by his right shin. He bent fluidly in the water to retrieve it and held it up for Jo to see with him. Sure enough, it was exactly what he’d thought. _A scale._ It was about an inch or two larger than the palm of his hand, and unmistakable. It was hard to tell the color underwater, but it shone with an indifferent iridescence. He slipped it into the pocket of his suit and Jo smiled at him, keeping her lips shut, and offered a fist bump.

As he reciprocated, a rush of murky-smelling water came from within the cave, and Jolene and Dipper retreated in opposite directions, each laying their back against the stone to either side of the cave. With the suddenness of a train flashing by in a subway station, something large and dark flew out of the hole in the rock. _Tessie!_ Jo and Dipper exchanged a millisecond-long look of disbelief before each kicking off of the stone and swimming to catch up with the object of their search.

With the beam of the flashlight directed at her and her trajectory leading her into the better lit openness of the lake, the creature looked to be about thirty feet in length. Description of her had varied anywhere from snake to seal to dolphin. Dipper had not gotten a good look at her head, but her body was most like that of a salamander. Long, supple, and soft with four webbed feet and a tail. She moved by a combination of wriggling like a snake and paddling like a salamander. She moved at a neat pace, but it was not hard to keep up with her. She was a beautiful black, shining cobalt and green like the plumage of a Grackle.

Dipper had been so taken with the sight of her, that he had stopped watching for Jolene. He looked around now, panic-stricken. In his mind suddenly vivid fears were bursting like flashbulbs, of bubbles streaming from Jo’s drowning mouth, of her soft body dashed against the rocks. A flash of pale skin alerted him to her location and he swore at her loudly in his head. She was just beside Tessie’s head, flashlight tucked between her body and her elbow, holding the camera up and desperately snapping pictures. Instinct to protect his sister overwhelmed instinct to protect himself and Dipper cried out for her, water rushing immediately into his mouth and lungs.

Jo didn’t hear him and didn’t realize at first what happened, but Tessie’s ears, more sensitive than theirs to the vibrations in her waters, whirled around at once, her fleshy tail colliding with Dipper’s side and flinging him through the water.

Jo’s thirst for proof was intoxicating, maddening, clouding her senses. Tessie was _right there_. But this wasn’t just about Tessie, it was about all the past adventures she had missed, all the future adventures that victory could open the door to. Tessie twisted again in the water and presented Jolene with a perfect composition, revealing her entire form, the details of her face and color of her scales revealed by a shaft of watery light. Jo mashed the button on the camera without ceasing until Tessie had swam swiftly away.

With Tessie’s retreat, sense began to return to Jolene. Her lungs were on fire, screaming for air. And a rush of shameful adrenaline shot through her when her mind landed on Dipper, and she swam as hard as she could in the direction Tessie had thrown him.

 


	11. Homeward

Despite the success of their journey, Jo and Dipper did not speak much on the ride home. A shamefaced Jolene had offered to drive and Dipper had shrugged silently and climbed into the passenger seat. It was uncomfortable sitting in their wet bathing suits, but neither of them complained. It didn’t matter.

Dipper fumed quietly as Jo drove. _This shit is exactly why we need a plan,_ he repeated to himself for the hundredth time, _we_ cannot _do things that way._ They had been lucky this time. When Tessie had struck him, she had pushed him back into the inlet where they’d jumped in. Fortunately, he hadn’t been too out of it to recognize his surroundings and had managed to crawl out of the lake, hacking up the water in his lungs and trying to get his bearings. Jo did not follow for a few minutes, and Dipper had spent those minutes in a complete panic. Before his breathing had even returned to its normal rhythm, an anxiety attack was upon him. He was convinced that Jo was dead, that she’d died on his watch, that he’d led her to a watery grave.

 _I knew,_ he had chastised himself, _I saw the signs. She was acting crazy, stupid, she was going to get herself killed._ A toxic self-loathing bubbled in his chest. When she came out of the water, he should have stopped her. Should have made her see, should have forced her to see reason. _But you were too busy checking her out, you sicko._ The sight of her wet bathing suit snug against her skin was vivid in his mind and it doused him in shame. _You were too busy ogling your sister to protect her. Not_ fucking _cool, man. That is your_ only _and most important job._

When she had popped out of the water, gasping for air and calling his name, his anxiety had transformed instantly into anger. _It’s not my fault,_ he realized, the situation coming clear in his mind, _it’s_ her _fault. She put us both in harm’s way!_ A thought had popped into his head, suddenly, uninvited, of Mabel at home. They’d left that morning while she’d been asleep, hadn’t said goodbye, _and with the reckless dangerous bullshit that Jo just pulled, it’s a miracle we’re both going home._ Anger and guilt and sadness tore at the inside of his ribs, at the thought of Mabel up all night, worrying why her two best friends hadn’t come home, hadn’t called, hadn’t even hugged her goodbye or said where they were going.

Jo’s impulsiveness had gotten them in trouble plenty of times before. And it was bad enough that Jo had almost gotten him killed, could have gotten herself killed, _but she would’ve broken Mabel’s heart, without even caring_. That, Dip couldn’t forgive.

 _You’re such a piece of shit. You’re such a piece of shit. You’re such a piece of shit._ The mantra in Jolene’s head had hardly let up since Tessie had swam away. In an oxygen-deprived frenzy, she had scoured the area for her brother’s inert form before admitting she couldn’t help him if she let herself drown. When she’d come up for air, she’d found him sitting on the stony bank with a stormy look on his face. Dipper didn’t anger easily, but when he did, he made no effort to hide it. They’d dressed and hiked back to the car without saying more than ten words to each other, and even less since they’d been on the road.

A sharp, sorry feeling gnawed at Jo’s insides. She had gotten so caught up in Tessie, in the proximity of victory, in the thrill of the chase, she’d practically forgotten Dipper was there. She’d felt so invincible, she’d forgotten that she wasn’t. She’d forgotten that he wasn’t either. _You are_ such _an unbelievable piece of shit,_ she told herself again. Yes, they’d both wanted this, but she had acted like an idiot. _I should maybe have paid a little more attention to the plan._

“Learn to follow a plan,” Dipper said, as if he’d read her mind, his voice dangerously quiet, “Learn to follow a plan, or this is the last adventure I go on with you.”

“Okay,” Jo said, her voice whistling out of her pathetically.

“I’m serious,” Dipper said, leaning his head against the headrest and shutting his eyes, “No more ditching a plan the minute you find a clue. No more unnecessary risk.” he sighed, “It seems like I can’t keep you from trying to get yourself killed, but you’re not going to get us both killed.” She saw him grimace out the corner of her eye, “I’m not doing that to Mabes.”

Jolene had thought she felt bad before, but those words hit her like a truck. _You’re a reeeeeal piece of shit, Jolene Pines,_ the voice in her head insisted, _You love your sister enough to watch her change and jack off to her, but not enough to consider how much you could be breaking her heart. Way to fucking go._ The tears were rolling silently down her cheeks before she even realized they were in her eyes, “I’m sorry, Dipper,” she said softly.

“Just don’t pull this shit again,” he said simply. They were both quiet for a moment, stewing in their private guilt, before Dipper asked tentatively, “Did you… did you get a good shot?”

Jo shook her head, “I’m not sure. I think so, but I, uh, I haven’t looked.”

Dipper reached into the backseat and fumbled around for the camera. He turned it on and used the preview feature to flip through the photos Jo had taken, “ _Wow,_ ” he said softly.

“Wow good or wow bad?”

“Wow good, Jo,” Dipper said, a hint of excitement rising in his voice, “Wow very fucking good.”

A few minutes later, Jo pulled the Mystery Machine into their driveway. Her heart twinged with relief at being home, and guilt that she was almost the reason they didn’t _make it_ home. Too exhausted and excited to worry about it, they left their packs in the backseat and went inside with only the camera. No sooner than they opened the door than they were greeted by the smell of food cooking and Mabel’s voice, “Jo-jo? Dip? Is that you guys?”

“Yeah,” Dipper called, with a somewhat bashful smile, “It’s us, c’mere!”

Mabel came tearing into the room from the kitchen, the smell of some feast clinging to her and making their stomachs grumble. _As if she wasn’t irresistible enough,_ Dipper thought, breathing the aroma in deep, such a welcome change from the murky lake smell that clung to himself and Jo. She explained that she was making dinner for all of them. Mom and dad had gone out (something they’d been doing a lot, trying to ‘rekindle the spark’ or something) and she figured they’d have worked up at appetite with all that mystery-hunting. Both Dipper and Jo felt the guilt clamp down a little harder on their hearts, imagining Mabel waiting at home with a full supper getting cold on the table, laid out for siblings that weren’t coming back.

However, they pushed the feeling aside and mustered the appropriate enthusiasm to show her the best photos of Tessie and the scale they’d swiped from the entrance to her cave. Mabel bounced excitedly on the balls of her feet and hugged them and congratulated them, assuring them that they were ‘totes gonna win’. After a few minutes of jubilation, Dipper and Jo excused themselves to get cleaned up before the food was ready.

Mabel walked back into the kitchen and let her excited facade fall. She covered her face with her hands and took deep steadying breaths, trying with all her might not to cry. _They match,_ she told herself brokenly, _They come in all sunburned and exhausted and stinky and I’m here like a dumb housewife, putting dinner on the table. But why would they care about that?_ She sniffled, taking her hands from her face to stir one of the pots on the stove, _Why would they want_ this _when they could have someone brave and smart like them?_ They’d both glowed with the same weary pride as they showed her the proof they’d brought back, and there was only room for two in that pool of light. Whatever it was that had happened to the two of them out there in Tahoe today was just another thing between them of which she could never be a part.

 

 


	12. Mystery 'Twins'

Exhausted and ashamed as Jo and Dipper had both been, it had turned out to be a lovely evening with their sister. Wet-haired from showering, they’d sat in the kitchen, gratefully eating the meal Mabel had cooked. Dad had been teaching her over the last year and she’d improved a lot. They’d eaten their food and then moved into the living room and curled up on the couch together. No sooner had they sat down than Jo had fallen asleep with her head on Dipper’s shoulder, snoring softly in his ear. Mabel had played the mom role and shooed them both up the stairs to bed while she cleaned up in the kitchen.

Dipper was bone-tired when he shut his bedroom door. His body ached from the day’s exertions and his bed looked wonderfully inviting. But there was something he had to do first. He turned on his bedside lamp and twisted it so it illuminated his bed brightly, and pulled the twisted blankets aside. He placed the scale from the lake gently on the bed and switched on the camera, quickly taking a few shots. It had been much more beautiful in the natural light, but the photos were adequate.

Almost on autopilot, he’d moved the photos from the camera to his laptop. He’d clicked the bookmark in his browser that took him to ‘mysterymonthlymag.com’ and eyed the featured daily headlines for a sec before clicking the ‘Explain the Unexplained! Contest Submissions’ link. He attached two images of Tessie and one of her scale, an picture Mabel had taken of he and Jo before their search for Scampfires in Gravity Falls last summer, wrote a 250 character blurb in the space provided, and hit ‘Submit’. Normally, he would have read and reread and obsessed over it, but he was tired enough that he couldn’t bring himself to obsess. _The pictures are as good as they could be,_ he reminded himself, _better than we could’ve hoped._ He wanted to win, but at this point, he wanted nothing more than he wanted to sleep. He shut his laptop, crawled into bed, and fell asleep instantly, forgetting to switch off the lamp.

The following Thursday, the triplets had been sitting in the basement den together. Mabel sat at her crafts table, putting finishing touches on props and accessories for ‘Twelfth Night’, Jo lay on the floor rereading her worn old copy of ‘Journey to the Center of the Earth’ snacking absently on a bowl of chips, while Dipper sat on the ugly pink futon, tapping away on his computer, working on an essay for his Ancient Mythologies class. They were in their Greek Mythology unit and Dipper knew the material so well he hardly had to think to write about it. The pain had been finding sources to cite when none of the information was new to him.

Dipper’s laptop and cell phone _ping_ ed in unison, the specific _ping_ he knew to mean he’d received an email. Happy with the distraction, Dip clicked over to the tab in which his email inbox was already open. _Probably junk,_ he thought to himself, watching the page reload. When it loaded, a new email was indeed on top of the list and Dipper’s heart skipped a beat, his eyes training on the subject line ‘CONGRATULATIONS!’

“Holy shit…” Dipper muttered to himself, opening the email and quickly reading the contents, “Hoooly shit…”

“‘Sup, Dip-man?” Jo asked lazily, not taking her eyes from her book.

“We won,” he said softly, disbelieving, reading the email a third time.

“Speak up, Dip-dot,” Mabel chimed in distractedly.

“Holy shit, we _won!_ ” Dipper repeated, the excitement in his chest finally catching up with his tone.

Both his sisters dropped what they were doing, echoing ‘holy shit!’ in unison. They scrambled over and hopped onto the futon on either side of him, eager to read the email over his shoulder.

“ ‘Dear Mr. Pines,’ ” Mabel read and chuckled, “Hehe, sounds like they’re talking to dad…”

“ ‘Dear Mr. Pines,’ ” Jo read, impatiently, “ ‘It is with great pleasure that we inform you that your submitted findings on the subject of Tahoe Tessie have been selected to be the featured winner of this year’s ‘Explain the Unexplained!’ contest!’ ” the pitch of her voice rose steadily so that it was a shrill excited squeak by the end of the sentence.

“ ‘Our judges were very impressed by the professional attitude and enthusiasm exemplified in the style and content of your short response as well as the remarkable nature of your findings.’ ” Dipper read on, his tone uncharacteristically confident.

“‘If you wish to accept your spot as winner, we urge you to contact us promptly to set up an interview. Congratulations again!’ ” Mabel chimed in, “ ‘We look forward to getting to know the Mystery... _Twins..._ much... better.” Her voice lost its enthusiasm and stiffened on the last few words.

“ ‘Sincerely, Matthew Michaloff, Manager of Reader-Submitted Content at Mystery Monthly Magazine.’ ” Jo read, still high on cloud nine, “With his number, _ooh_ , I wonder if that’s his personal extension!”

“They misspelled ‘Mystery Kids’...” Mabel grumbled, standing up and walking back to her craft table.

“Yeah, I know,” Dipper said, “Sorry about that, Mabes. I only had 250 characters to tell our story. There wasn’t room to talk about being triplets, they must have figured from our names and picture that Jo and I were twins.”

“It’s fine,” Mabel said stiffly, picking back up what she’d been working on. _How appropriate,_ she thought bitterly, jabbing the needle harder than necessary into the crown of Olivia’s wedding veil for the following night. _Maybe I’m Olivia after all, stubborn and grieving and_ they’re _the twins._ Suddenly, ‘twins’ was the ugliest word she’d ever heard when for ages it had been her secretly coveted dream. _They’re the twins,_ she thought, the jab prickling, _and there’s no room for me in only 250 characters…_

A click at the top of the stairs announced the door opening, “Mabel? Scout?” Mom’s voice called, “Are you girls down there?”

“Yes, ma,” Jo called back, her attention still focused on Dipper’s laptop screen.

“Could you two come up here and help me with something?”

Mabel looked over and met Jolene’s eyes, trying not to look angry. Jo had a familiar deer-in-headlights look, the same one she got whenever mom or anyone else required her input on girl matters, “Sure thing, mama, we’d love to,” Mabel called back. _Let Jo squirm a little,_ she thought with sick satisfaction, _besides it’ll peel her away from Dipper’s side for a hot second._ Dutifully, Jo joined her sister and went up the stairs.

Mom met them with a slightly anxious smile, one that only Dipper had inherited. Of her three children, mom definitely was the most like her son. They were similarly high-strung, in an exceedingly well-meaning way, both dedicated micro-managers. The girls followed their mother up the stairs to their parents bedroom and the matter at hand was instantly apparent. There were clothes strewn all over the bed and dresser, a disarray of garments and accessories. Whenever mom needed help from Jo and Mabel, it usually pertained to this sort of thing, as it was the only area in which Dipper’s similarity to her was no help at all. Dipper shared mom’s usual feeling that clothes were a utilitarian necessity, but were neither important nor interesting beyond that.

“Whoa, did a bomb go off in your closet?” Jo asked sarcastically, and mom reddened a little. Jo grinned, “Finally payback for all the times you said that about my room!”

“What’s the dealio, momsy?” Mabel asked, ever the more sensitive daughter.

“Well,” mom squirmed a little at being on the spot, “You girls know your father and I have been making a point of making time for dating and romance,” Jo looked queasy at the use of the word ‘romance’ in conjunction with her parents, “We’re going on special date tomorrow night--”

“And you don’t know what to wear so you called for backup,” a grin was spreading on Mabel’s face, “You did the right thing.”

“So you’ll help?” her green eyes glittered with gratitude.

“‘Course mama-bear,” Mabel said, “Right, Jo?”

“I think this is more your forte, Miss-Sis--” Jo glanced at the door.

“Nonsense!” Mabel interrupted, “It’ll be fun!”

As their mom started pulling hangers from her closet, Dipper sat in the basement den, listening to the phone ringing, hoping the other line would pick up. And with a click, it did, “Thank you for calling Mystery Monthly Magazine, you’ve reached the office of Matthew Michaloff, Manager of Reader-Submitted Content. My name’s Petra. How may I help you today?”

“H-hi,” Dipper choked, cursing the crack in his voice, “My name’s Dipper Pines. I received an email from Mr. Michaloff saying my sister and I had--”

“Oh! Tahoe Tessie Dipper!” The woman interrupted and Dipper couldn’t help thinking how awesome it would be to work somewhere that even the _receptionists_ were excited about the supernatural, “Congratulations to you and your sister, Mr. Pines! I’ll put you through to Mr. Michaloff at once!”

“Thanks, that’s awesome,” Dipper responded, pleased to be taken so seriously.

There was a click and a couple seconds of silence, followed by another click and a man’s voice, “Matt Michaloff speaking,” he said, “My assistant tells me I have our winner on the line?”

Dipper laughed nervously, “Ha, yes, ha ha, I guess that’s me? My name’s Dipper Pines, my sister Jolene and I investigated Tahoe Tessie?”

“The man of the hour!” Dipper imagined he could hear the man smiling, wondered if he was looking absently at small replicas of Nessie and the Jersey Devil and the Central American Whintosser on his desk, “Congratulations again to you and your sister, Jolene! I trust you’re both well?”

“Um, yes, we’re both well. Thank you, Mr. Micha--”

“Oh, please, call me Matt,” The man interrupted with a laugh, “Mr. Michaloff is my dad!”

“Ha, that’s exactly what Jo said about you calling me Mr. Pines in your email,” Dipper said, loosening up a little. He had the feeling most of the employees at Mystery Monthly were kindred spirits.

“Well, Dipper,” Matt Michaloff said, in a more informal tone, “Would you and Jo be able to do your interview with me tomorrow evening?”

“Tomorrow?” Dipper squeaked.

“Yes, tomorrow, if at all possible,” Matt reiterated, “We’d really like to get the story to our editors as soon as possible. Of course, if you can’t make--”

“Oh, no, we can make tomorrow work!” Dipper interrupted eagerly, “If you wanna do tomorrow night, we can definitely do tomorrow night!”

Matt laughed good-naturedly, “I’m loving your enthusiasm, Dipper Pines,” he said, “Well, if there isn’t anything else, I’ll talk to you at, say… six o’clock tomorrow?”

“Six is fine,” Dipper agreed, “But there is one other thing actually.”

“I’m listening,” Matt said.

“Well, Jo and I aren’t actually _twins_ like you said in your email,” Dipper corrected, “We’re actually triplets, we have another sister named--”

Matt laughed again, “You know what, Dipper, if it can wait till tomorrow, I’d love to hear whatever you have to tell me then.”

“Oh, uh, okay,” Dipper acquiesced, “Sure, yeah, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

“Fantastic,” Matt replied, “Talk to you then, Mr. Pines.”

“Okay, Mr. Michaloff, thanks again.”

“Extend my congratulations to Ms. Jolene Pines, if you will,” Matt said, smoothly, “I look forward to making her acquaintance and hearing all about your experience.” He hung up and Dipper sat in stunned, giddy silence, and took several minutes to lower the silent phone from his ear.

 


	13. Interview Jitters

**Chapter 13:  Interview Jitters**

  
  


“Do you think he’s going to ask what kind of gear we had?” Dipper muttered at Jolene, “Should we lie? I mean, we don’t have any freaking gear--”

“We’re not lying,” Jolene said, stuffing a coiled rope into her pack, “Gear doesn’t matter. In fact, doing it without gear is cooler.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, that’s right, you’re right,” Dipper grumbled, flipping through the cue cards he had hastily prepared, “Not lying, duh. But I mean, he’s gonna wanna know how we went about it, if we planned, if we practiced. Dammit, I’m forgetting something but I don’t know what it is! Ugh! Oh man, do most people--”

“Holy moses, Dipper, get a hold of yourself!” Jo exclaimed, shooting him an exasperated look, “We’re gonna be great. We’re charming little shits, remember? Can’t we just do this normal conversation style?”

“Are you serious…?” he could hardly make it through the question, “Like, yeah, we’re great but no, Jo-jo, we are following the cue cards. Man, I really feel like I’m forgetting something… The cards, they’re color-coded to make it easy--”

“No fuuuuucking way,” Jolene laughed, nestling a couple water bottles into her pack, “I am _not_ following your dorky cue cards.”

“No, Jo, seriously, you have to--” he stopped talking abruptly, staring at her, “Hey, what are you doing?”

"Oh, whatever do you mean?" Jo asked, batting her eyelashes at him before shifting her attention back to her pack.

“Your bag. Why are you getting your pack ready?” The pitch of his voice rose anxiously, “I swear to god, Jolene, if you are ditching me to do this interview alone--”

“Pssh, as if,” Jo said, putting her hands on her hips, “I’m not leaving you alone with your boyfriend Matt, who knows if you lovebirds will even use protectio--”

“Well you’re not even paying attention to what’s going on! Why are you getting your pack ready?” Dipper demanded, “Why aren’t you freaking out?”

“Dip-man, I’m not freaking out because you obviously have the panic attack quota covered,” Jo said, putting the last couple things in her pack and pulling the drawstrings to tighten the opening before snapping the flap shut, “Aaaand I’m getting my pack ready for our trip to Lone Pine Mountain.”

Dipper laughed derisively, “You’ve got to be kidding me, Jo.”

“Why would I be kidding?” Jo countered with a shrug, “Operation Tessie went well enough that we freakin’ _won_ , which is awesome, now’s the time to go--”

“Oh, I _know_ you are fucking joking,” Dipper said, the hint of anger in his voice stopping Jo in her tracks, “Operation Tessie went _well?_ I’m sorry but we must be thinking of _different fucking days._ ”

“Dip, I know it wasn’t perfect,” Jo conceded, “I know it was fucked up, but we did win and--”

“Yeah, it was fucked up, Jo,” Dipper agreed, throwing his cue cards down on his desk, where they scattered, “We almost died. And in case you bumped your head, you promised me no more unnecessary risk.” Jo fidgeted uncomfortably under Dipper’s accusatory gaze, _of course, he’s right, you did promise._ “No Lone Pine Mountain Devils. End of conversation. Now we need to prepare for--”

As if on cue, Dipper’s phone started ringing, playing the iconic ‘Z-Files’ theme song. Both of them stared at if for a second before Jo rolled her eyes and grabbed it, swiping the green ‘accept call’ button, “Hello, Jo Pines speaking, who is this?” she said, and Dipper cringed at her brusque tone, “Oh, thanks. Yeah, Dipper’s here. Gimme one sec and I’ll put you on speaker.” She took the phone from her ear and rested it against her chest, “No flippin’ cards, bro-tective, just be your debonair lil self.” Dipper nodded and Jo nodded back, looking at the phone screen and pressing the speaker button.

  
  


 


	14. Opening Night

“Hey, uh, Mabel, um, are you, uhh, sure this is gonna fit?”

“Brandon…” Mabel said, wearily, resisting the urge to facepalm, “Yes, it will fit. It fit you at dress rehearsal less than 24 hours ago.”

“Okaaay, if you say so…” Brandon said, sounding unconvinced, walking away testing the elastic waist of the costume in his hands.

The show was set to start in only a few minutes. Mabel stood in the wings, checking on the costumes of the characters in the opening scene. Judging by the noise level, the theater was filling up nicely. Ticket sales had been good and they had every reason to project a successful opening night. _And at least two of those seats are filled for my sake,_ Mabel thought with a smile. She hoped Jo and Dipper had gotten here early enough to nab a spot with a decent view of the stage. Even if they hadn’t, she hoped there would be sufficient sparkliness to shine all the way to the back row.

“It’s show time,” Mr. McMahon said, coming up beside her as the house lights dimmed and the audience obediently applauded. She gave him her patented ‘you-got-this’ million watt smile and he walked on stage to give the standard ‘thanks for coming, a word about the production’ speech. Duke Orsino showed up behind her, ready for his entrance for the opening scene. He was fidgeting with the velvet hat she’d made him, unsure of how it should fall. Mabel adjusted it for him as Mr. McMahon finished up his speech to polite applause.

The first half of the play went off without a hitch. No lines flubbed, no entrances missed, no costume catastrophes. Mabel helped with set changes and preened the actors before they went on. Many of them received a last dusting of glitter for good luck from the container labeled ‘For Emergencies’ that resided perpetually in Mabel’s pocket. In her uncharacteristic stage crew blacks, only her face was easily visible in the dim of backstage, beaming with pride. The costumes glimmered beneath the stage lights and made all the hours of stitching and gluing well worth it.

The house lights came up after the act break to signal intermission, and most of the audience started to file out into the lobby, in search of snacks and bathrooms. Mabel happily skipped out from behind the side curtain and down the small steps at the left corner of the stage. She scanned the crowd for Dipper’s scruffy head. He was tall enough to usually find easily in situations like these. _They must be out in the lobby already,_ she decided after having ascertained that they were no longer in the theatre, _That’s a bummer. Only the people with seats in the back are already out there._ Well, this would not be the first time her siblings had gotten to something too late to get good seats. With the sufficient sparkles it should be fine.

She made it through the press of bodies into the lobby. Everyone was chattering about the production, and with pleasure she caught a few snippets about the “eye-catching costumes”. _Damn skippy, they’ll catch your eye,_ she smiled inwardly. There was a card table with snacks and drinks for sale over by the entrance, and Mabel knew her Trips enough to know that they’d make a beeline straight to the refreshments. She made her way over to the table. Liz, one of the costume crew drop-outs, was manning the table. _Traitor,_ Mabel thought as she slipped ahead of the line, peering through them. _No sign of the sibs._ She frowned, “Hey Lizzie?”

“Oh, hey, Mabel!” Liz said, her tone a little too friendly, “Hey, the costumes look awesome! Great job on those!” She handed a couple candy bars and some change to a parent in line, “Like seriously, wicked. Even better than ‘Oklahoma!’!”

“Oh, uh, thanks,” Mabel said, unfazed by the buttering-up she was receiving, “Listen do you--”

“Hey, look, I know,” Liz interrupted, her tone a little more serious, “It was really lame of me to quit. I’m sorry I left you with so much to--”

“It’s fine, forget it.” Mabel said impatiently, tensely checking every face in the crowd, but not seeing the two that looked like her, “Have you seen Dipper or Jo?”

“Dipper and Jo?” Liz repeated dumbly, and Mabel resisted the urge to flip a nearby tray of cookies on her.

“Yeah, Dipper and Jo. Jolene. My brother and sister?” Mabel reiterated, “Ya know? One looks like me? One looks like me, but a boy… and like a foot taller? C’mon, we’ve been in school together since we were like lil piglets!”

“Ha, _yeah_ , Mabel,” Liz said, a little snotty at being condescended to, “I _know_ who Dipper and Jo are. But no, I haven’t seen them. I don’t think they’re here.”

“Thanks,” Mabel huffed, turning on her heel and walking away from the concessions. _Okay, no way. They’re definitely here. Just cause Liz didn’t see them doesn’t mean squat. She’s not the brightest light on the tree._ They were definitely not in the lobby, though. _Maybe they went out to Aoshima?_ _Yeah, of course!_ Of course, they’d gone out to the car. They usually would sneak snacks of their own into this sorta thing, they’d probably just gone out to restock their pocket candy. Mabel could feel a grin spreading on her face as she leaned her weight against the glass door to open it, the cool air of the spring night refreshing. It was a nice night, and both her sibs would rather take in the night air that stand around in a mob of people.

Her feet carried her several feet into the parking lot as her eyes bounced from car to car, looking for the smiley face antenna topper and the outline of a friendly sibling head. _No smiley face,_ Mabel frowned. _Well, if they were late, maybe they’re out on the road?_ She checked the clock on her phone. The next act was starting in only a couple minutes, and there was no time to check.

Mabel went back inside to check the bathroom. No Jolene in the ladies’, and no Jo or Dipper waiting by the door for the other. _Maybe they went back in the theater already…?_ Mabel wondered, deflating by the second. The theater was filling back up and she followed the current of the audience. She automatically kept searching, the pit of doubt in her stomach getting deeper and deeper by the second. _Could they really not be here…?_ It didn’t seem possible. Since they were little tots, all three triplets had had plenty of events like this. Dance recitals, plays, science fairs, art shows, talent shows. Like tonight, every once in a while their parents wouldn’t make it, but they had never ever ever missed each other. _Not once._ The Trips were each other’s biggest fans. They wouldn’t miss a thing, even if it was boring to them. _They know how hard I’ve been working on this…_

 _But do they?_ Things had been so weird lately. She’d been so wrapped up in working on the play and her stupid pesky feelings clogging up the works. She knew she’d told them it was opening night. It was marked in pink on the calendar on the fridge and the one by her bed _and_ the one by her desk in the den. They were distracted to, though, ever since they’d gone on that mission to find the sea snake thingy they’d been so caught up in adventure _stuff_. Mabel reached the little steps to the stage and looked back over the audience. The lights were flashing in the lobby to communicate the end of intermission, and the last few stragglers were trickling in. With a clear view of everyone like this, there was no denying it.

 _They’re not here. They really didn’t come._ Mabel tried to banish the tears from her eyes as she hurried back into the wings. She was on autopilot now, straightening collars and flattening out creases. The joy of it had left her. The play was going well, the costumes looked fantastic, but what the hell did it matter? _They forgot me._

 


	15. A Chat With Matt Michaloff

“Well, let me tell you, that is just incredible!” Matt Michaloff said over speakerphone, “You two sound like quite the young adventurers!”

“Thanks, Mr. Michaloff,” Dipper said, with that starstruck tone he’d had in his voice for the entire interview.

“Please, Dipper, _please,_ ” Matt said laughing.

“Right, _Matt_ , sorry,” Dipper said, his cheeks reddening at having his manners corrected yet again.

“Sorry, Matt,” Jo cut in, “My brother’s a bit of a dweeb.”

Matt laughed politely, “Well, he’s a lot cooler than I was in High School, I’ll tell ya that much.”

“Oh, really?” Dipper’s voice cracked slightly, “Ha, thanks, Matt,” Dipper said, with the bashful smile Jo harbored a secret love for, “Did you have any other questions?”

“No, I don’t think so, Dipper,” he said, with the sound of some sheets of paper rustling, “You guys gave me so much great material! Thank you again for making time for the interview so promptly.”

“Yeah, o-of course, no problem!”

“Do you know when this issue’s coming out?” Jo asked eagerly.

“Well, we’re hoping to have it hitting the presses in the next two weeks,” Matt said, “But don’t you fear, you two will be getting a box of advance copies.” Dipper and Jo grinned at each other. _Advance copies?!_ Jo thought excitedly, _that sounds so legit!_ Matt rustled his papers again, “If you two have nothing to add, I think I’ll be saying goodnight to you. I’m eager to get to work on this story.”

“Thanks, Matt!” Jo squeaked, as Dipper said a polite ‘goodnight’ and ended the call.

“Ooooooo _oooooh my god!_ ” Dipper wailed excitedly, the second the call disconnected, “Oh my _god!_ ”

Jo leapt to her feet, full of thrilled nervous energy, “That was so so _so_ freaking cool!” She hopped excitedly from one foot to the other, “That was-- _hoh my god!_ ”

“ _Right?!_ ” Dipper agreed, his eyes gleaming with exhilaration. He hopped to his feet and offered Jo a fist bump with each hand, “Fuckin’ Mystery Kids, man!”

“MysteryKidsMysteryKidsMysteryKiiiiids!” Jo chanted, punching fist bump after fist bump rapidly against her brother’s knuckles.

“You did so good, Jo-jo,” Dipper said, grinning ear to ear, his cheeks still flushed, “You were so cool and casual and like, poised, not a fangirly dork like me.”

“Oh, cram it!” Jo said, directing one of her punches for Dipper’s shoulder instead of his hand, “You were a total _boss_ , bro-tective!  You put the _man_ in Dip-man! You were professional as _shit._ ”

“As shit, huh?” Dipper joked, but she could see his shoulders straighten with a hint of pride.

“Yeah, you and Matt had like this awesome _rapport_ goin’ on,” Jo teased, “Like you were the same species and you recognized each other. I had to interrupt a few times there, ‘cause the sexual tension was just, _whoa,_ through. the. roof.”

Dipper had just wiped the grin from his face when Jo elicited the coy, playful crooked one. He ran a hand through his hair from brow to neck, “Oh yeah? Well, how could ole Matt resist this?”

It was so rare that Jo had a chance to see Dipper exuberant and cocky like this. Normally so reserved and responsible, although there was no end to his dry jokes, he rarely let himself play around quite like this. _With me and Mabes in the house, there’s already a surplus of silly,_ Jo noted, _It’s a shame. Silly Dip is the cutest Dip._ He was still making a show of some idea of manliness, flexing his flimsy biceps and making some attempt at bedroom eyes. Without warning, he grabbed Jo by the waist and dipped her low, as if he knew the first thing about dance.

It didn’t matter. It worked. It ripped Jo right from her thoughts and into his hands, warm and strong, broad against her lower back. His eyes were gleaming darkly, his hair falling softly over his brow, his cheeks pink, his lips just curled in a crooked smile. His lips were like a magnet, like the tastiest morsel of food hung over her and she was starving. Her heart was bouncing around her chest with the thrill of the interview and every beat seemed to push her closer and closer to the invitation of Dipper’s lips.

 _What the_ hell _are you doing??_ She screamed at herself, tugging herself awkwardly from Dipper’s grip. He gave her a perplexed look and she saw the small crease knit between his brows, concerned that he’d offended her, “Jo?” he asked tentatively.

“I’m gonna, uhh, go wash my face,” Jo muttered, unable to meet his eyes. She scurried from the room and into the bathroom, shutting the door a tad too hard behind her. She leaned her back against it, her eyes tickled by tears, trying desperately to slow her frantic heartbeat. _You stupid, selfish_ freak! _You could have ruined_ everything! Jo covered her face with her hands, _That was way too freaking close._

 


	16. Confrontation

Mabel parked the music department van by the mailbox, right behind Aoshima. _Right where it has been, this whole time,_ Mabel griped bitterly. She realized she’d been holding her breath and made a point of letting it out. She looked at the house apprehensively. Mom’s car was gone, meaning she and dad were still out on their date. Mabel hoped she’d worn the red sweater she’d suggested. The lights were on in the living room, as well as Dipper’s room upstairs. Her heart twinged. _They’re in there._

She opened the door and got out, cutting across the lawn to the front door. It had been a long day and her body was weary, but she didn’t feel it. Anger was coursing hot and livid through her veins, stronger than any amount of sugar or caffeine. Her hand was shaking as she turned the key in the lock and entered her house.

Without slowing down, as if pulled by a magnet, Mabel made her way swiftly up the stairs. She reached the second floor as the bathroom door shut hard, just shy of slamming. Dipper’s head poked out of his bedroom door, looking towards the bathroom, after Jolene, Mabel assumed. Mabel stopped in the hall a few paces away from him and crossed her arms, glaring at the back of her brother’s head. _What the hell is so interesting about Jo going in the flipping bathroom?!_ Impatient for Dipper’s attention, having been denied it when she thought it was guaranteed, Mabel pulled her purse from her shoulder and dropped it loudly on the ground.

Dipper nearly jumped out of his skin at the loud thud behind him. He whirled around to find Mabel standing in the hallway, and the sight of her was scarier than the noise had been. She almost didn’t look like Mabel. She was dressed all in black, from head to toe, a black long-sleeved tee shirt and black leggings, glowering at him. Her cheeks were pink and her brown eyes glittering angrily, accusingly. Dipper felt the blood rush from his face. _Did she see that? Did she see Jo almost…?_ Dipper glanced back towards the bathroom, _See what, asshole? She wasn’t gonna kiss you, it was all in your twisted up head._

“What the hell, bro,” Mabel said. Her voice was dangerously low, a tone rarely heard that Dipper knew meant business. He looked back at her at once.

“Uh, hi… Mabes,” He said, uneasy under her glare.

“Don’t ‘hi Mabes’ me,” Mabel shook her head, crossing her arms. It was seriously off-putting to see her dressed in black. He was tempted to ask who’d died, but had the sense that they might be his last words.

“Oookay,” Dipper said cautiously, unsure what he was supposed to say if ‘hi’ was out.

“So,” Mabel urged, raising an eyebrow, “What the _heck_ is your excuse?” Dipper blinked at her, desperately trying to come up with an excuse, and an explanation to himself as to _what_ needed excusing. Mabel raised her voice a little, “What happened tonight?”

 _What happened tonight?_ Finally! A question he knew the answer to! He knew what had happened tonight, so long as he left out the almost-kissing-Jo part, “Oh! The interview! It went great! It--”

“The...interview…?” Mabel asked, cocking her head cluelessly.

“Yeah, the interview!” Dipper smiled a little, confused by chasing Mabel’s signals this way and that, “With Mystery Monthly about--”

“ _The interview?!_ ” Mabel spat at him, cutting him off, her eyes suddenly blazing, “That-- _that_ is what you were doing tonight?!”

“Umm,” Dipper fidgeted, “Yes?”

“Of course!” Mabel threw up her hands and gave a derisive laugh, “Of _course!_ Of fucking _course_ that’s what you were doing tonight!” Dipper opened his mouth to ask what was going on as she took a step closer to him, “Of course, your _stupid mystery thing_ was more important than my play!”

_Oh, shit._

Dipper’s blood ran cold. _The play._ Everything suddenly clicked into place, opening up a hole in the pit of his stomach. _The play, the play, the play. Oh my god, the play was tonight._ He accidentally muttered the last part out loud, “Ohmygod, the play was tonight.”

“ _Ding-ding-ding-ding-ding!_ ” Mabel verified facetiously, “The play was tonight and, for the record, it was off-the-charts awesome. Not like you care.”

“It was just opening night, though, right?” Dipper supplicated, holding out his palms, trying to find a solution, “We’ll go tomorrow--”

“Oh, gee whiz, Dip,” Mabel rolled her eyes, “Heartwarming as it is to be an _afterthought_ , that’s really not the flippin’ point at all!”

 _Ouch_ , Dipper winced, his hands dropping to his sides, “Mabes, you’re not an afterthought…”

“Yeah?” She scoffed, “Because it sure feels that way! This play has been the only stinking thing I talked about for _weeks!_ ” She took another step toward him, angry tears sparkling in her eyes, “I have lived and _breathed_ ‘Twelfth Night’! I have sewed and glued until my fingers bled! I have gone to school early and come home late and you,” she scowled and Dipper’s heart ached, seeing the hurt just under the veneer of her anger, “You--you guys were, were _happy_ to have me _gone!_ ”

“That’s not fair, Mabes,” Dipper said, _how could she say that?_ He tried to resist the anger blooming inside him, “That is so not fair. Just because we forgot--”

“Ugggh!” Mabel’s hands clenched into fists, “But you _didn’t_ just forget the _play_!” She took another step, glaring up at him, “You forgot _me!_ Did you even wonder where I _was?_ While I was looking for you in the audience, in the lobby, out in the parking lot, did you _once_ think ‘Hm, where’s Mabel tonight?’ ” She pointed at him, “ _No!_ The whereabouts of stupid Nessie is more important to you than your own _sister!_ ”

“What the _fuck_ , Mabel!” Dipper’s anger flared, eating up the unfair accusations like kindling, “You can’t compare Tessie to how--”

“Oh _excuuuuse me,_ ” Mabel mocked, “Tessie, not Nessie. Of course I would mix that up, silly stupid Mabel can’t even--”

“Shut up!” Dipper interrupted, grabbing Mabel by her shoulders, “You’re not stupid! You--”

“No, Dipper, I _am_ stupid!” Mabel disagreed, the tears welling in her eyes becoming harder and harder to keep at bay, “It was _stupid_ of me to assume you’d be there, it was stupid of me to--”

“Mabel, no,” Dipper’s anger wilted at the sight of Mabel fighting tears, holding onto her anger so hard, turning it back on herself. His voice softened, “I _should_ have been there. I know how important this was to you and it was selfish and careless of me to forget.” His hand moved from her shoulder to soothingly pet her hair, looking into her tear-glazed eyes, “You’re _not_ stupid. You’re so completely not stupid. _I’m stupid_ for getting so caught up in this contest thing. You know I love you.”

“I love you,” Mabel said softly, blinking hard, fat tears squeezing out from under her eyelids and rolling down her cheeks.

“I know, Mabes,” Dipper said, a little relieved that her anger seemed to have been extinguished.

“No,” Mabel shook her head, and met his gaze again. His stomach dropped, confused by the deep sadness in her eyes, “I love you, Dipper. _I love you_.”

“Mabel, I don’t--” Before DIpper could blink, he was cut off by Mabel’s lips crushed against his own. She had thrown her arms around his neck and wobbled on her tiptoes, and he leaned down his head towards her, allowing her to rest back on her heels as he eagerly met her kiss. To him she tasted like ice cream and apple pie and just like glitter would taste if it was made of candy and her tears were salty but her lips were soft and Dipper’s mind was shutting down as his body was waking up. His arms went around her and hugged her to him and _god_ she was so small and soft and he could feel her trembling as her anger went out of her. A voice in his head was screaming _what’s happening? What’s happening? What do you think you’re doing? What the hell is happening?_ But it was quiet compared to the sound of Mabel’s almost inaudible sigh against him. Her sigh was in his mouth and a stray thought wondered how her voice could taste so good.

The haze of Mabel that enveloped Dipper like a cotton candy dream shattered with the sound of Jolene’s shocked cry.

 


	17. Flight

Jolene’s brain stalled like a car in mud. _This can’t be happening,_ she told herself impatiently, _I’m hallucinating._ She’d been pretty freaked, but she was sure that once she’d stopped the tears and washed her face five or six times and recited to herself every reason that she couldn’t kiss her brother, that she was back to normal. The fan in the bathroom was pretty loud, but she had thought she’d heard Mabel out there. She had braced herself to see Mabel, and opened the door, only to find bona fide proof that she was still hardcore hallucinating.

She took in the scene before her. Trying to break down the hallucination and find reality. Mabel and Dipper were kissing in Dipper’s doorway. Simple as that, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Like a boyfriend kissing his girlfriend goodnight by her front door. Her arms draped over his neck, his arms pulling her close against him. Their lips moving together, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, like they were two halves of the same whole and being together was more natural than being apart.

 _No way,_ she reminded herself, _No way, this can’t be real. Find the flaws._ Something was off, for sure. It took a second for Jo to realize Mabel was wearing black. There it was, yeah. Yeah, _no way_ Mabel was wearing all black. It wasn’t even glittery black. Mabel hadn’t even worn all black to their grandpa’s funeral, opting instead for a respectfully funereal but much more Mabel-y navy with a sequin-trimmed blushy-pink cardigan. Mabel Pines did not do black.

And Dipper seemed off too. He was so...poised. Jo almost smiled at the idea of ‘Dipper’ and ‘poise’ in the same thought. Dipper was cradling Mabel in a leading-man kinda kiss, one hand in her hair while the other possessively gripped her waist. It was the kinda kiss that ended up on movie posters for Victorian-era romances that would bore you to tears. _Very not Dipper,_ Jo comforted herself, _Dipper would definitely be all bumping teeth and stammering stepping on toes, not so suave._ She rubbed her eyes, confident that when she looked again, her mind would quit playing this cruel joke on her.

But when she opened her eyes, they were still there. If anything, the kiss had deepened, their brows softening with tenderness, their hands gripping a little tighter. Her heart started to speed up again, banging on her ribs angrily, as she stared. Softly, almost too quiet to hear, Mabel sighed. Sighed against Dipper’s lips. Dipper’s lips, which only moments ago had hovered over Jo’s own, tempting her to kiss them. But she hadn’t, _after all, she couldn’t,_ he was her brother and her best friend and he would have pushed her away and wiped his mouth and scorned her and--

 _He isn’t._ She admitted to herself, _He isn’t pushing her away. He isn’t mad. He isn’t weirded out. He’s kissing her back._ She took a silent step into the hallway. _Mabel isn’t me, though. He would have pushed_ me _away._ It was like a knife in her quickly speeding heart. He actually wanted Mabel. But… Mabel? Of course Jo knew Mabel idolized Dipper a little, for all her teasing, she was devoted to him. Indeed, Jolene had had murmurings of suspicion that Mabel wanted Dipper, but still. Seeing Mabel not push him away... _Who kissed who?_ She found herself wondering, her eyes flashing desperately back and forth between them. _It doesn’t matter,_ the knife in her chest reminded her, _it doesn’t matter. Now that they have each other, why would either of them need you?_

Mabel and Dipper leapt suddenly apart, and it took Jo a moment to realize she had cried out. Two sets of brown eyes were on her, wide and panicked. ‘Deer in headlights’ would have been a gross understatement. Jo’s heart was racing, fast and irregular, competing with her tongue’s attempt at forming words, “What- what in the- how?”

“Jo, it’s--” Dipper began shakily.

“It’s _what?_ ” Jo demanded, “You guys were _kissing._ ” She cringed inwardly at the way her own accusation echoed the taunting ‘k-i-s-s-i-n-g’ of a child’s taunt.

“I can explain,” Mabel pleaded, her skin deathly pale against her strangely dark clothes.

“Oh, I’d like to hear that,” Jo said, crossing her arms over her crazed heart.

“It-it…”Mabel cast her eyes down, “It was… It didn’t mean anything! It was just--”

“...it didn’t?” Dipper asked, his voice softly devastated. Mabel’s eyes rose to meet his and Jo’s blood ran cold. _It did mean something,_ she knew, _More than I thought...More than...They don’t want each other, they_ love _each other._

“Dipper…” Mabel begged, torn between trying to appease her siblings’ conflicting hopes, “It’s so complicated…”

“You know what, it’s fine!” Jolene interrupted, surprised by the vitriol in her own voice, “You guys don’t owe me an explanation! I’m just your sister, what the hell do I know?!” She took a couple steps towards them, “Discuss on your own time whether that- _that-_ meant anything, because you know what? I don’t fucking care!”

“Jo-jo,” Dipper implored, “Please, please listen to me. Mabes and I are as confused as you are. Please, we love you--”

Jo laughed in Dipper’s face and he cringed, “Oh that’s rich!” she stood directly in front of him now and he could hardly believe the fire burning in her eyes, “You’re _confused,_ huh? Being confused makes you start kissing your sister, huh? Because I coulda sworn being _excited_ nearly had the same effect! Guess anything might inspire some sister-smooching!”

 _Shit shit shit, so that_ is _what happened,_ Dipper swallowed hard, thinking of how Jo had scurried from his room, “Jo, it’s not--”

“What’s she talking about?” Mabel asked, her head cocked to the side.

“Jo, calm down!” Dipper begged, “Can’t we just talk about this?”

“ _Calm down?_ ” Jo repeated shrilly and Mabel winced, shaking her head, _seriously Dip, never tell a girl to calm down,_ “Why- _why_ -would I be calm? I just lost _everything!_ ” Jo pushed Dipper hard and his tailbone hit the ground painfully, as Jo strode past him into his room. She’d always had a short fuse, but Dipper had never in his life seen her so incensed, “You don’t fucking _understand_! You-you, _neither of you!_ ”

“Jolene…” Mabel said from the hall, stepping into Dipper’s doorway.

“ _Don’t_ ,” Jolene screamed, silencing them both, “You don’t _get it!_ You-you _matter!_ You’ve _always_ been the ones that mattered! You saved the fucking _world_ , what the fuck have I done!?” She smacked her chest to punctuate her reference to herself, “You’ve always looked out for me and put up with me but you never _needed_ me! I needed you, my world, my happiness depended on you, but I’ve only been a _drain_ and a _nuisance!_ ” Angry tears were streaming down her face, her voice alternately shrill and thick with crying, “I almost got you _killed_ , Dipper, and...and I…” Her words faltered as they were overpowered by her tears, “And you, _you have each other!_ And-and that’s, that’s just _great!_ You don’t-don’t need _me_ , ‘s’time I learned to not need _you!_ ”

In a blur, Jo was out the room and flying down the stairs, leaving Dipper and Mabel blinking at her absence.

 


	18. No Time To Lose

The sound of the car pealing out of the driveway woke Dipper up and he sprang to his feet. His eyes went at once to the spot on his bed that he knew would empty, “Ohh, _shit shit shit shit shit,_ ” he whined, pressing the heels of his hands to his brow.

“Dipper... what…?” Mabel asked softly from the doorway, leaning against the frame.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Dipper shouted, kicking the leg of his bed. He turned on Mabel angrily, “What the hell _was that?_ ”

Mabel flinched in the face of his sudden anger, “Why are you yelling at me?” she asked, stung.

“Why am I yelling at you?! Seriously?!” Dipper gestured towards the hall, “Why did _you_ yell at _me?_ Why did you _kiss me_? Why did you try to say it...it...meant…”

As usual, Dipper’s anger burnt out fast, and Mabel tried to offer him a reassuring smile, “I’m sorry, it didn’t....it didn’t not...I was trying, to, just, with Jo--”

Dipper shook his head, like a dog shaking off water, and held up both hands, “We don’t have time to talk about this right now. We need to go after Jo.”

“Dip,” Mabel put her hands on his shoulders, trying to meet his eyes, “Maybe she just needs some time to cool off--”

“No, no way,” Dipper brushed her hands off, pacing his room, “Jo’s not going to cool off, she’s going to fucking get herself _killed._ ” He held his face in his hands without slowing down his pacing.

“What are you _talking_ about, Dip?” Mabel asked, exhausted with her siblings’ cryptic ravings, one right after the other.

“She-she took her pack!” Dipper said, pointing at his bed, “She was packing it before the interview, saying-saying she wanted to go after the _Lone Pine Mountain Devils!_ ” Dipper rolled his eyes at Mabel’s blank stare, “They’re these really fucking mean bird-dinosaur-raptor things that no one’s ever gotten a picture of because if they _see you_ , they _kill you_! One whiff of meat and bam, they’re tearing your frickin’ face off!”

“Fun…” Mabel said drily.

“Well, that’s where Jo’s going!” Dipper’s voice cracked, “And she took the Chariot and she speeds like a crazy person, especially when she’s mad, and I’ve _never_ seen her _this_ mad, and I don’t even know _why_ she’s this mad and we don’t have a car--”

“Yes, we do,” Mabel interrupted, and it was Dipper’s turn to stare at her blankly, “Well, you guys were my ride and when you didn’t _come_ to the play, I had to use McMahon’s music van again and--”

“Awesome, can we use it?” Dipper cut in, ignoring the guilt trip about the play.

“Um, yeah,” Mabel said, watching as Dipper pulled his pack from his closet and started filling it on autopilot, having done it a million times.

He glanced over at her watching him, “Don’t just stand there, go get your pack. We have no time to lose!”

With a small eye-roll that Dipper didn’t see, Mabel left to go follow his instructions. Entering her and Jolene’s room gave her a moment’s pause. Her heart twinged looking at Jolene’s side of the room, the disheveled green striped bedsheets, the wall plastered with posters and her drawings. She felt the urge to climb into Jo’s bed, pull the green comforter over her head and go to sleep. She’d been up early and worked hard on the play, on top of that the mess with Jo, and the fight with Dipper, and the kiss… She felt her cheeks redden at the thought of the kiss. She wished she could take it back and go back to how things had been yesterday, but at the same time, she wished she could walk over to his room right now and kiss him again. And again and again, and not stop kissing him until their parents got home.

She pushed these thoughts away as she went over to her closet, digging through the purses and shoes and miscellany on the floor looking for her pack. _How long has it been since I was invited on an adventure thingy?_ She asked herself. Finally she pulled it out, the pink camouflage emerging from the piles of more often worn accessories. Some stuff was still inside it from whenever she’d last used it, some rope, a water-warped map, no longer readable, the round pink canteen that matched the pack. She shook it and it sloshed, and she made a face, wondering how nasty water would taste after years in a plastic bottle. Canteen in hand, pack slung over one shoulder, Mabel trotted quickly downstairs to the kitchen.

She was filling the canteen at the sink when Dipper thumped down the stairs, he peeked his head in, “Are you ready yet?”

“Almost. Water,” She said, trying not to be short with him, “The keys are by the door, with the ‘Phantom of the Opera’ keychain.”

“McMahon is such a dork,” Dipper muttered tensely, turning away, “Hurry up, Mabes!” he shouted back from the door.

Mabel rolled her eyes again but did hurry. She was leaving the kitchen, twisting the cap onto her canteen when she had an idea. She turned back and opened the fridge, remembering the conversation she’d had with Dad that morning. She’d eaten breakfast before Dipper and Jo had gotten up, and had handled Dad’s well-meaning awkwardness all on her own. He’d talked to her about the recipe he’d found for Beef Bourguignon that he was looking forward to trying this week. She opened the fridge and silently thanked Dad. She grabbed one of the two shrink-wrapped packages of stew meat and stuffed it into her pack. _If these things are as bloodthirsty as Dip said,_ she reasoned with herself as she left the house, _we might be happy for a distraction._

  
  


 


	19. Brave

The Mystery Machine purred under Jo’s shaking hands. It was content and happy to be speeding along the highway, oblivious to the agitation of its driver. She’d planned and dreamed about this trip enough that the route was seared into her brain. She figured that was a good thing. There was no way her mind could have followed the tiny text and tangled lines of a map. _For once planning wasn’t a waste of time,_ Jo conceded, thinking of Dipper’s obsessive lists and itineraries. The thought curdled like milk upon contact with the acidity of her pain. _Maybe I’ll never see one those stupid plans again._

Jo hadn’t thought that far ahead, but it seemed impossible that she would ever see either of her best friends again. It wasn’t as if she could go back home after all this. And that was if there was any of her left to go back home at all. Her stomach turned as she realized she _hoped_ there would be nothing left. She saw the Lone Pine Mountain Devils in her mind, flapping their grand wings and snapping their jaws. It made her sick, but she hoped they were as ferocious as everyone said.

She moaned aloud in the privacy of the Mystery Machine. She felt too much at once to be quiet. For the first time in her life, she had to admit to herself that she wanted it to end. And why? She was embarrassed, beyond embarrassed, _mortified_. As she never had been before.   _I can’t face them, especially Dipper, I can’t I can’t I can’t._ Not Dipper who was so logical, so responsible, so reasonable. _He must think I’m such an idiot for blowing up like that._ And she knew she couldn’t bear to see the pity in Mabel’s eyes again, the desperate appeasing pity that had made her say it meant nothing.

‘ _It didn’t?’_ Dipper’s wounded voice echoed in her mind, lancing through her embarrassment and her anger to the heart of the problem. It _had_ meant something. It had meant so much. She knew, _she knew intimately,_ how much it had meant. It would have meant just the same thing to her.

How long had she harbored this unwanted but undeniable passion within herself? How many times had she snuck glances, touches, sniffs? She had so hated it in herself, so feared that she would be found out. So terrified that if _they only knew_ what she was feeling, they would never forgive her. But she couldn’t have predicted it playing out like this. _It doesn’t make any sense! It isn’t fair!_ They may forgive her, but how could she ever forgive herself?

She’d had a chance. She’d had a chance at getting what she wanted. Dipper had held her in his arms and looked down at her with something a hell of a lot like desire in his eyes. He’d been so handsome, his parted lips so incredibly tempting. If she had just let herself respond, let herself go to him like iron to a magnet, he would be hers right now. _Would he?_ She wondered, _Or was it never really me he wanted?_ Even so, she wished she had kissed him while she had the chance. When she’d run to the bathroom, it hadn’t been with any thought to whether or not there would ever be another opportunity.

 _You’re full of shit, Jo,_ she scorned herself,   _You were never gonna make a move. You were just going to yearn and pine in pathetic silence._ But not Mabel. No, never Mabel. Matchmaker, love at first sight, summer romance Mabel would never have been content to sit by and wish away the days for anyone, even her brother. Some part of Jo was sure that Mabel had kissed Dipper. She’d always been pushier, flirtier, more socially adept than her triplets. The Dipper that Jo had left standing nonplussed in his room wouldn’t have turned around and kissed someone else. As much as it felt that way, as much as it stung, he would have been too discouraged, too confused. Mabel had kissed him, no doubt. _Typical,_ Jo admitted to herself, _Mabel could have her choice of men, of course I’ve only ever wanted the two of them._ She moaned again, this time the one word, “ _Freeeeeak._ ”

Would she have been able to kiss Mabel? She couldn’t help wondering. After all, her feelings for Mabel were older, had developed first and been undeniable. She could avoid thinking about Dipper, but she had never been able to set aside how she loved and longed for Mabel. _No,_ she admitted, _No, that made it even harder._ There was a different brand of rejection at stake. Being pushed away by Mabel would have broken something else in her entirely. Who could bear being turned away by the better version of themself?

 _If you hadn’t been such a fucking coward, Jolene,_ she bullied herself, accelerating even more, _If you hadn’t run away from him kissing you, you wouldn’t have to run away from him kissing her!_ It was hard to believe she had been so elated only hours before. High from the Mystery Monthly interview, basking in Dipper’s excitement, that version of Jo felt a million miles away. _Why did you run? Aren’t you the brave one? Isn’t that the only goddamn thing you have going for you?_

“Yes,” she said to herself, her voice choked with tears, “ _Brave,_ ” she glanced over at her pack in the passenger seat. She had always been braver than Dipper, even if she wasn’t brave enough to kiss him. His caution had only held them back with Tessie, and it wouldn’t get in her way this time. _He nearly died because of you,_ a doubtful voice in her head reminded her. She pushed it away, _Well, then, it’s a good thing he won’t get in my way this time._

 


	20. The Elephant In the Car

“Oh this is great!” Dipper said hotly, smacking the steering wheel with both hands, “This is just fan-fucking-tastic!” They were only a couple miles from the exit to Lone Pine, California, but red brake lights stretched about as far as they could see, “Why the hell is there traffic this late anyway?!”

“Maybe there’s an accident or something?” Mabel offered, reasonably. _Since when is my job to be the reasonable one?_

“Pfft, fuckin’ accidents,” Dip scoffed, “I mean, how do they even _allow_ half these lunatics on the road? These people are a menace--”

“A menace?” Mabel raised an eyebrow, “Dip, cool it. Any second now you’ll be chasing kids-these-days off your lawn.”

“But I mean, what’s _really_ idiotic is this _road,_ ” Dipper’s knuckles were white from clenching the wheel, “These roads were _never_ meant for this volume of traffic, I mean, _only two stinking lanes each way?!_ ”

“Dipper, honestly,” Mabel rolled her eyes, “You sound like a granny.”

“But I mean, _why?_ ” Dipper pressed, his tone growing more hysterical, “ _Why_ is this road only four lanes? _Why_ was there an accident? _Why is this happening?!_ ”

“I don’t know, Dipstick,” Mabel said, in the closest thing to a soothing voice she could manage, “It’s oka--”

“Don’t you dare tell me it’s okay right now, Mabel,” Dipper spat, holding up his right hand to her in a _stop_ motion, “Unless your definition of ‘okay’ includes our sister running headfirst into a grisly _fucking_ death, I don’t wanna hear it!”

“Whoa, whoa, don’t yell at me!” Mabel bristled, “I didn’t design the stupid road!”

“Oh, _c’mon,_ Mabel,” Dipper said, exasperated, “Don’t gimme the innocent act.”

“It’s not an act!” Mabel snapped, “This isn’t my fault!”

“I didn’t blame you, Mabe--”

“Oh, shut up,” Mabel rolled her eyes, “You’ve been blaming me since she left!”

“Oh, I have not!”

“Have to!” Mabel insisted petulantly.

“I’m telling you, I have not!”

“Since she left, you have been treating me like I’m the bad guy!”

“Well, she wouldn’t have left if--” Dipper began.

“There it is,” Mabel pointed at him, “Go ahead and say what you mean,” she gestured at the inching traffic, “We got time. She wouldn’t have left if I hadn’t what?” Dipper shifted uneasily in his seat, “Hadn’t kissed you?”

Dipper dragged in a long-suffering sigh through his nostrils, his eyes shut, “Yes, Mabel,” he admitted, softly, “She wouldn’t have left if you hadn’t kissed me.”

Mabel pushed down the icky rejection feelings his words planted in her chest, “Well, I’m sorry I kissed you then.” She said, stiffly, keeping her eyes on the license plate of the car in front of them.

She could feel Dipper’s eyes on her, but forced her gaze to remain forward, “Mabel, it just… Out of nowhere like that? You were yelling at me one second and then kissing me, and, I mean,” he dragged his hand through his hair anxiously, “You _are_ my sister and--”

“You don’t need to spare my feelings,” She said, shaking her head, “It won’t happen again.”

“Wait, Mabes, no!” Dipper turned to her, frantically, looking away from the car-clotted road. His eyes were troubled, his face conflicted, “That’s not what I meant! That’s, uh,” he glanced down, “Not what I want, is that... what you want?”

Mabel couldn’t help but smile a little. She shook her head, “No, you nerd.” He met her eyes again, his mouth curling ever so slightly upwards, “That’s not what I want. Why the heck dya think I kissed you?”

“I dunno, I don’t really get a lot of what you do, sis,” Dipper admitted, drily.

“That’s fair, I guess,” Mabel said, but it wasn’t the answer she’d been looking for.

“I love you, Mabel,” Dipper said tentatively.

“I love you too, Dip,” Mabel grinned and leaned across the center console to plant a soft, decisive kiss on his lips. He pressed his lips against hers in eager agreement. For a brief moment, everything fell away. The worry about Jo, the anger and confusion, the honking of the cars caught in gridlock with them, it all disappeared. But the moment was indeed brief, _too brief_ Mabel thought. She opened her eyes after their lips parted and met Dipper’s. She saw the same love and fear she felt mirrored back at her, and gave a small nod, “Okay, so that’s settled. We love each other and we like kissing.”

Dipper snorted a laugh, “We love each other and we like kissing, okay.” His smile soon wilted, “I’m sorry about the play.”

Mabel frowned, “That was really lame of you guys.”

“I know,” Dipper said, pulling the van up a few inches, “I know it was, and I really am sorry.”

“We got bigger fish to fry,” Mabel changed the subject, _we can talk about the play later_. Dipper grimaced, never one for confrontation of any sort, “So we love each other and we like kissing, but we should maybe return to the elephant in the car that you so kindly brought up.” Dipper raised an eyebrow. Mabel rolled her eyes, “I’m your sister.”

“Oh, _that_ elephant,” Dipper said grimly.

“How many elephants dya think are in here?” Mabel teased, looking around the van’s interior, the couch and garment racks, and amplifier holding no answers. Dipper snorted, “Anyway,” Mabel continued, “I, uh, love you _and stuff_ and the sibling thing is weird ‘n’ all, but I’m like, okay with it, I guess? But obviously Jo-jo isn’t, and like, we can’t just do something this bonkers if she’s not okay with it. And it’s a little too late to hide it from her, but that probably wouldn’t have worked anywho.”

“I don’t want to hide anything from Jo, ever,” Dipper agreed, his tone grown a bit sullen.

“I mean, I can’t blame her for being freaked by incest, though,” Mabel conceded.

Dipper shook his head, “I don’t know if that’s what she’s upset about.”

Mabel scoffed, “Oh, c’mon, Dip. If I didn’t feel it, I’d be freaked out too. Shoot, it freaks me out a little and I _do_ feel it.”

“Well, that’s just it, Mabes,” Dipper inched a little closer to the bumper of the car ahead of them, “I’m pretty sure Jo _does_ feel it.”

Mabel felt the blood drain from her face, “Say what?”

“Well, uhm, before you got home,” Dipper fidgeted uncomfortably in the driver’s seat, “We were both, um, like really amped about the...interview,” Dipper said the word quietly, trying to soften the blow, but it stung Mabel nonetheless, “And we uhh, almost… well, kissed.”

For a silent moment, Mabel blinked at the sea of red brake lights, trying to process what Dipper had just said. _She was the one he really wanted, you’re just his second choice._ Tears prickled Mabel’s eyes again and she looked out her window, as if fascinated by the minivan in the finally-moving lane to their right, “You almost kissed her, or she almost kissed you?”

“Well, kinda both,” Dipper said, sounding a little unsure, “I think.”

“You _think_?” Mabel’s voice was sharper than intended.

“No, no, I’m sure,” Dipper grumbled, “She wanted to kiss me and I wanted to kiss her.”

Jealousy poured molten hot into Mabel’s stomach. While she was driving home, tearful and angry, while she was parking and glaring at the light in Dipper’s window...that’s what had been happening? They’d been excited, they’d been celebrating, they’d been _almost kissing,_ “You wanted to kiss her.” she echoed.

Dipper picked up on Mabel’s jealousy then, “Mabel, no…”

Jo’s words rang in her sister’s head, _coulda sworn being excited nearly had the same effect! Guess anything might inspire some sister-smooching!_ She looked at Dipper sharply, as he pulled up impatiently, the traffic finally loosening up a little at a time. No sooner had the words formed in her head than she was speaking them, “Dipper, is it really me you want, or her?”

Dipper’s heart ached at Mabel’s inevitable and unanswerable question, “It’s not like that, Mabes,” he tried to explain, “It’s both of you, it’s _always_ been both of you.”

 _Both of us?_ That had never occurred to her. All this time, she’d wondered and feared how, in the unlikely event that _anything_ like this could come to pass, Dipper would have to choose one sister over the other. All this time, she had been thinking of Jolene as a friend and sometime-adversary, trying not to notice how beautiful she was, how smart, how vibrant. How she blushed and sweated around her, how she could hardly keep her eyes away when she got undressed, how incredibly cute the noises were that she made in her sleep. “ _Holy shit,_ ” Mabel muttered out loud. She’d known that the way she thought about her sister was unusual, but it had seemed like small potatoes compared to her high-octane crush on her bro. Yet suddenly it was unbelievable that she hadn’t realized the nature of these feelings for Jolene before. It had been different with Dipper, maybe because of that first summer in Gravity Falls, maybe because he was a boy, she had recognized what she felt early on. She’d been so busy seeing Jo as competition, hating her unique closeness with Dipper, hating the ways their differing appearance favored Jo, she hadn’t realized Jo might be seeing her the same way, _or seeing Dipper as competition for me._ She dropped her head in her hands, “ _Holyshit, holyshit, holy-guacamoley-bowls-o-shit._ ”

“...Mabel?” Dipper asked cautiously, unsure if Mabel was angry with him.

“Dipper,” Mabel said, desperately, reaching for his hand. He gave it to her without hesitation and she squeezed hard enough to make him wince.

“Mabes, what’s going on in there?”

“I think I love Jo,” she whispered.

Dipper felt a stab of jealousy, _ohh now I get it,_ “You…”

Mabel picked up on his uncertainty, “No, no, Dip, I love you too. Of course, I love you.” she managed a watery smile at him, “Both of you. I get it. I get it.” Tears streamed down her cheeks, “Ohmygolly, we are _such_ a mess.”

“A psychiatrist’s field day, I know,” Dipper’s heart soared at the sound of Mabel’s laugh at his comment.

“We both love each other, and we both love her,” Mabel stated, a little stunned.

“I have a feeling she doesn’t know the latter,” Dipper said, his brow furrowing.

“Well, we’ll just have to go tell her then.” Mabel said, in a sure tone, wiping the tears from her face, grateful that the traffic was finally letting up. She had something important to tell her sister and it couldn’t wait.

 


	21. Lone Pine Mountain

It was a hard rocky climb, and Jo was thankful for the flashlight she always kept in her pack. Even with its help, it was a treacherous hike. _Dipper never would have considered this climb at night,_ she knew, _because Dipper’s smart._ She shook the thoughts of Dipper away, reminding herself that he was not beside her and he likely never would be again. She just focused on the path, or what passed for one. Jo was weary, but she could tell the summit wasn’t far off now. She had that sense one has just before a peak, of the sky getting bigger and the land shrinking before them.

Much as Jolene tried to focus on the task at hand, tried to push away the cacophony of her thoughts, it was inescapable. Tears kept blurring her vision, making it difficult to tell where the best footholds were. She had slipped and mis-stepped countless times, leaving her ankles sore, her knees and palms stinging with scrapes. But however she pushed her thoughts away and tried to swipe away her inconvenient tears, they kept creeping back. One moment she’d be seeing the beam of her flashlight across the stony terrain, and the next it was as if she was transported back to her childhood home, watching that kiss. The way Dipper’s hand tightened on Mabel’s dainty little waist, the way Mabel’s cheeks flushed prettily as the kiss deepened. They had looked so strangely natural, like two puzzle pieces made to fit together. Jo slipped again, catching herself again on her skinned palms, hearing the pebbles clattering down the steep descent behind her.

She realized she was actually much steadier crawling and so she moved ahead that way. She could feel the wetness of blood on her hands and knees from the jagged bedrock, but didn’t much care. The immediacy of the physical pain gave her something to focus on, drawing her mind just a little bit further from Dipper and Mabel’s kiss. There was something comforting about pain of the body, as compared to the unmanageable pain of the soul.

With a suddenness that surprised her into a smile, Jo realized she was no longer ascending. The steepness had given way to fairly even ground. She stood up, wobbling a little at being back on her feet and turned in a circle a couple times, sweeping the flashlight across her surroundings to get her bearings. She had finally reached the summit, or at least one of the lower landings around the highest point. It was sparse, mostly rocky and open, with some scrubby bushes and a few weathered pine trees, tall, black, and austere in the dim light. It was quiet, apart from the occasional whisper of wind through the pine needles, as if even the trees here were holding their breath.

The moonlight illuminated more evenly and Jolene shut off her flashlight to conserve energy, blinking rapidly to get her eyes to adjust. _Dipper would be proud of that kinda foresight,_ she thought before she could help herself, slipping the flashlight into her back pocket _._ It was easy enough to push Mabel from her mind in this situation, but exploring like this without Dipper was strange. She’d practically never gone on any sort of Mystery Hunt without him, although he’d gone on plenty without her that first summer in Oregon. As always, a pit of envy and exclusion bubbled in her stomach thinking of that summer. Up here alone with the pine trees, she could almost pretend she was in the Oregon hills, seeking monsters from the entries in Grunkle Ford’s old journals and about to run into Bill Cipher around any corner.

“ _Stopit,stopit,stopit,_ ” Jolene scolded herself, hating how pathetic her tearful whisper sounded in the still of the night. _Stop thinking about Dipper, stop thinking about Gravity Falls, and for fuck’s sake, stop thinking about Bill Cipher!_ There were many dangers in these hills, but Bill Cipher was not among them. Dwelling on him now would do her no good, just as it never had.

Jo wiped the grit and blood off of her palms onto her shorts. _What now?_ She asked herself, surprised to find herself wishing for one of Dipper’s plans. She took a few more steps and halted. Her breath was coming a little heavy from the steep climb, but she found it wasn’t slowing, rattling unevenly out of her. It was catching up with her, all of it. She’d driven here fast and reckless, her foot demanding the gas pedal put more distance between her and her problems. She’d climbed in a fever, desperately scrambling up, zigzagging along the rockface in hopes she’d shake the pain that was following close behind. But she had stopped running now for the first time in all the hours since she’d fled, and she couldn’t outrun it anymore.

The tears hit her hard, tearing through the center of her like a blast from a shotgun. An agonizing certainty flooded her that _everything_ of value was over. A lifetime of friendship and longing bubbled over in her, all bitter with the burnt taste of loss. _Gone, they’re gone, they’re gone._ She didn’t realize how violently she was shaking until she felt her raw knees hit the ground. She hugged herself hard, trying to hold herself together, feeling as though her body would be torn asunder by the sheer force of emotion within her. Since running from home, Jo had been trying so hard to escape the breakdown ticking away like a timebomb inside her, but now that it had detonated there was too much, far too much all at once. _I’m meaningless,_ it screamed at her, _I have always been superfluous, I have always been the_ other _triplet, I have always been nothing._ She could hear herself wailing, the heartwrenched sound eerie in the quiet of the mountaintop. What was the use? Why love so deeply when it opened you up to being infected by pain like this? There was no longer any avoiding the kiss she had seen Mabel and Dipper share. _They love each other,_ she knew with a brutal finality, _and they are complete without me._

As the weight of that realization truly sank over Jo, weighing down her shoulders, her sobs quieted. There was no reason left to cry. They were lost to her, and there was no reason to keep fighting. Jo covered her face with her hands, her tears stinging against her cuts. She held her breath for a moment, trying in vain to still the throbbing of her heart.

With a sudden prickling at the back of her neck Jolene knew something was wrong. She didn’t realize why at first. She saw nothing in the darkness behind her hands. But the trees were making a different sound now, not the whispering rustle of pine needles but a softly sinister _swish_. A hiss broke the silence, and she _knew._ It was no hiss an animal should make. Not the hiss of a cat, or even of a snake. It was the sound of menace itself given flesh.

Jo realized the _swish_ ing was not the trees, not the wind, but the sound of feathers, bristling, spreading, settling. _They’re real!_ She thought, with an intoxicating rush of satisfaction, that she was witnessing what no one had proven. _What no one_ survived _to prove,_ Dipper’s voice reminded her sternly in her head. For an instant, Jo embraced the idea that she was among them, one of those who had climbed this mountain, met these monsters, met their demise. That the knowledge of them would die with her, just like countless others. But the resignation gave way nearly at once to a force far more powerful.

 _I’m not ready,_ she knew with sudden clarity, _I don’t want to die. I want to get away, I want to go home!_ She raised her face, as if woken and startled from sleep, her eyes met with dark figures, larger than she had imagined. Her eyes adjusted, identifying fangs, feathers, talons. _I’m going home in one piece._ She resolved stubbornly, _And I’m getting a picture before I go._

She cried out in surprise as something sliced into her shoulder. As she pulled away on reflex, she felt the weight of her pack shift, the strap on her injured shoulder severed by whatever cut her, _a talon most likely,_ she deduced in her head. She looked around, seeking a gap between the shadowy creatures closing in around her, _I’m getting home,_ she rose to her feet, _but not if I’m dinner._

 


	22. Preternatural

“I cannot believe we’re doing this in the dark,” Dipper muttered for the umpteenth time. He could hear Mabel close in front of him. She was breathing heavy, grunting with every few steps. In their eagerness to get on the road, to follow Jo, Mabel had forgotten to consider the suitability of her footwear. Dipper’s flashlight was lending a little bit of assistance, but there were no two ways around the fact that flimsy ballet flats with no treads on the soles were dangerous shoes to climb a mountain in. “I _cannot_ believe we’re doing this in the da--”

“Will you _please_ shut your pie-hole, Dipdot?” Mabel interrupted irritably, halting and shooting him a sharp look over her shoulder, before her expression softened and she grumbled an apology.

“No, I’m sorry, Mabes,” Dipper said, honestly contrite and honestly pretty terrified, “But I just... really cannot believe we’re doing something this stupid.”

Mabel sighed and squeezed Dipper’s free hand, “I know, all those years of dorktastic lists and here you are being _impulsive._ But it’s for Jo-jo.”

Dipper nodded, relenting. Mabel started walking again and he followed suit, saying to her back, “I think we’re almost at the summit.”

“That’s good!” Mabel said, her enthusiasm not very convincing through the small groans of pain.

 _The summit is where we’ll find the Devils, if they are in fact real,_ Dipper considered, his heart quickening instantly at the prospect of danger so close at hand, _and whether they are real is a crazy gamble._ But he knew, with a certainty that scared him more than the Lone Pine Mountain Devils, that his sister needed him. He had felt both triumphant and discouraged when he parked the school van beside the Chariot. Until seeing the familiar vehicle, there had been a small shred of hope that maybe he was wrong, that maybe Jolene hadn’t come here, that maybe she was somewhere safer.

“Your silence does _not_ inspire confidence, Dip,” Mabel chided, trying to sound like she wasn’t really frightened.

“It is good, Mabel,” Dipper said, far too late to inspire any confidence whatsoever, “It’s just also…”

“Bad.” Mabel finished, “It’s also bad.”

Dipper nodded, even though her back was to him and she couldn’t see, “On the bright side,” he said, glancing up at the dizzyingly pitch black sky, “The sun will rise before too long.”

“ _Bright side??_ HA!” Mabel blew a raspberry, “I get it, a daylight pun. Nice one.”

“Okay, sure,” Dipper said, but couldn’t resist a chuckle. Mabel’s ability to see good news and laughter in such a bleak situation warmed him more than he could say. Was climbing a mountain in the dark without a map or gear to save their hysterical sister from nightmarish monsters insane? Certifiably. But he had Mabel and her impossible optimism to buoy him above his own terror. _And she loves me,_ he reminded himself, a vast migration of butterflies flying through him. _She loves me. And if it’s possible that my amazing, colorful, out-of-my-fucking-league sister can love me back, then hell, anything can happen._

As if on cue, said amazing, colorful sister whooped in excitement. The sound instantly pulled Dipper out of his own head, “Yo, bro-bro!” Mabel exclaimed, “This sure as shitake looks like a summit to me!”

Dipper hurried a few steps to reach her and both dread and relief swelled in his chest. Definitely a summit of some sort, they had reached a relatively flat area dotted with bushes and tall pine trees like silent, black sentinels. It was hard to tell in the dark how far it extended in any given direction, and Dipper wished fervently that the sun would rise already. He wasn’t afraid of the dark at all, but when the darkness potentially held bloodthirsty monsters, it took on a decidedly scarier quality. Dipper placed a hand on Mabel’s shoulder, “Stay close to me, Mabes,” he said, panning the beam of his flashlight across the terrain before them, “We’re safer if we don’t split up.”

“Aye-aye, cap’n,” Mabel joked, her hand finding Dipper’s again and giving it a reassuring squeeze, “The buddy system has never failed us yet.”

He squeezed Mabel’s hand gratefully, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Mabel,” he said gravely.

“Aw, you dorkus,” Mabel nudged an elbow into his side, “Haven’t you had enough sentimental mushy stuff for one night?”

“I dunnoooo,” Dipper couldn’t help shooting her a smile in the darkness, “If sentimental mushy stuff is what we’ve been doing, I think I’m developing a taste for it.”

Mabel laughed, “Okay, casanova, let’s save our sister first and then we can sentimentally mush till the cows come home.”

“Ha, okay, sounds like a plan,” Dipper agreed.

“High praise,” Mabel teased, “From the nerd who loves his plans so much.”

Dipper snorted a laugh, making no move to deny the jab. _I could really go for a plan right about now,_ he admitted to himself, ‘ _the buddy system’ isn’t quite as sophisticated a plan as I would like._ But he knew Mabel was right, the buddy system had never failed them. _We’ve never failed each other,_ he told himself, and tonight was no time to start. _If we could survive that first summer in Gravity Falls,_ he considered, _we can handle some birds of prey._

“But, soft, Sir Plans-a-lot,” Mabel said, her grin audible through her mock-proper tone, “What dost thou thinketh we shalt do hence?”

“Sir Plans-a-lot?” Dipper repeated, unable to restrain the tone of admiration in his voice, “That’s a good one, Mabes.”

“Answer the question, Plans-a-lot,” Mabel needled, “What we doin’ hence?”

“...That means ‘next’, right?” Dipper clarified.

“Aye, Dipstick, _verily,_ ” Mabel said, a slight edge to her voice, “If you’d had a nice refresher on your Shakespeare earlier, ya might know that.”

“Okay, okay, message received,” Dipper replied, guilt lapping at the edges of his mind. There was no time to dwell on the _Twelfth Night_ mishap at present, but he knew that if they got back home intact, there would be at least a week of apology favors to do. He wondered absently if apology favors would take on a different meaning in light of his and Mabel’s newfound shared feelings, but put the thought out of his mind. _We’re going to get home, and I’ll worry about that then. For now...what next?_ And his own words, ludicrously formal, popped into his mind, ‘ _4B2, screen for evidence of preternatural presence’_. The Lone Pine Mountain Devils were about a zillion times more dangerous and more unpredictable than Tahoe Tessie, but it seemed the inevitable next step, “Next, or _hence_ , I guess, we should screen for evidence of preternatural presence… or Jolene.” he added. _Finding Jo_ before _the Devils would be ideal._

Mabel and Dipper lapsed into silence, walking tentatively forward. _Everything is spooky as heck,_ Mabel thought, _How are we supposed to know what the ‘preternatural’ bits are?_ She knew Dipper must be scared, he didn’t even like going to the mall without a plan, but he seemed calm. No doubt his mind was going a hundred miles a minute, but he wasn’t really showing it. _I don’t know how he does this adventure junk,_ Mabel thought, trying to ignore the pain in her feet and ankles. Calling this place ‘spooky as heck’ was an understatement. Mabel had just about exhausted her reserve of humor and found herself focused simply keeping her fear at bay. _Jo is here,_ she told herself firmly, _And we’re going to find her and bring her home. No spookiness can come between the Mystery Kids._

All of Mabel’s resolve went out the window when her foot landed on something that gave a sickening, brittle snap. She felt its echo in her own bones, through the thin sole of her shoe, and _knew_ with a nauseous certainty what it was before the illumination of Dipper’s flashlight could reveal it. Her shriek was out of her before she could think, the splintered tibia, the crumbling rows of ribs, the blindly staring skull a brilliant white. On instinct, Mabel had grabbed Dipper and he clutched her securely to his side as he swept the light around, counting softly against her forehead.

“Th-that was a _person_ , Dipper,” Mabel pointed out superfluously.

“Yes,” Dipper agreed distractedly, “One of eight, by my count. And I know who they are.” There was a slightly vindicated tone to his voice, as if he were relieved they were real, that angered Mabel.

“Cut it out!” Mabel wrenched herself from his side, “Don’t sound so happy about it!”

“Mabes, please, I’m not happy I--”

Dipper’s words were interrupted by an infernal hiss that froze Mabel’s blood in her veins. He saw it, but she didn’t, in the instant before he shut off his flashlight. His hand grabbed herself, and they were running. Mabel’s toes were curled in his shoes, trying desperately not to lose them. In their aimlessness, they knocked into the sap-sticky trunk of one of the looming pines, “ _Climb_ ,” Dipper breathed, practically inaudible, and without question, Mabel obeyed.

 


	23. Up a Tree

They had scrambled about five or six feet up, clumsy in the darkness, when they heard another hiss. This one was different, however. Not so much a chilling threat from the depths of hell, and more of a “ _Psssst!_ ”

“ _Jo_?” Mabel and Dipper inquired in unison, quiet but eager, hoping against hope.

“ _I’m sorry,_ ” Jo replied, her voice unmistakable, even when it was hardly making a sound.

“ _Later,_ ” Dipper insisted,  “ _Bigger problems._ ”

Jo’s hand landed on Mabel’s as she shimmied down the tree to join them. Clammy, scabbing, tacky with sap, Mabel had never felt anything equal to it. She gripped her sister’s hand, and they listened to Dipper grumbling, trying to concoct a plan. Death waited just below, but Mabel found she was no longer scared. A dim light was creeping into the sky when Dipper swore, “ _Shit!_ ”

“ _What’s up, broseph?_ ” Mabel asked, careful to make as little sound as possible. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but every few minutes they would hear the awful hiss or screech or rustle of the monsters close at hand.

“ _I just don’t know what to do,_ ” he replied, his anxious whisper verging on a whine.

“ _You got dis, Plans-a-lot,_ ” Mabel encouraged.

“ _Good one,_ ” Jo said with an approving snort.

“ _If only we had a_ cliff,” Dipper bemoaned.

“ _We do,_ ” Jolene said, giving Dipper’s shoulder a friendly poke. She pointed into the dark clearing, not quite in the direction her siblings had climbed up. They couldn’t see further than a foot or two, even with the night darkness lifting ever-so-slightly, but she explained, “ _There’s a chasm-y thing. I knocked one in and almost fell in myself. He took my pack with him,_ ” she added, with a shrug of her unencumbered shoulders.

Dipper considered what Jolene had said, trying not to get distracted by the perturbing thought of her falling into a chasm. As the pale pre-dawn light crept into the sky, he realized with relief that his sisters were becoming visible. It was as subtle and gradual as one’s eyes adjusting to the dark after turning out a lamp. He couldn’t see them clearly but after the enveloping velvet black of moonless night, all it took to enchant him was the colorless halos of their mussed hair, the occasional glint at the corner of Mabel’s eye or Jo’s glasses, or the barely-perceptible softness of a cheek. There circumstances were still dire, but somehow, the ability to see was heartening. Not only because it would aid in their survival, but because there was nothing that could ease his mind right now like seeing his best friends.

Jo watched as Dipper silently considered her contribution. She realized suddenly that sunrise must be nearing. When Mabel and Dip had first climbed up, she hadn’t been able to see them at all. But now she could make out Dipper’s profile, his brow drawn low in contemplation. She couldn’t see it, but knew he was chewing the inside of his cheek in lieu of a pen. Her stomach churned, thinking how certain she’d been under an hour earlier that she would never see either of her triplets again. It had been with a combination of fear and relief that she had heard them below. Clutching onto the tree in terror, she had thought for an instant that she was hallucinating. She had never been more grateful to see them, but at the same time was sickened that she was the reason their lives were now in danger.

 _Especially Mabey,_ she thought, her eyes moving to her sister. Mabel was facing her more directly than Dipper, so her features were almost entirely obscured in the dim light. Jolene didn’t have to see Mabel’s face to know she was terrified and far out of her depth. Dipper was good under pressure and had spent many a day adventuring with Jo, invariably saving her from her own irresponsibility. As frightened and stumped as he was, he was nevertheless in his element, while Mabel probably wasn’t even dressed for a hike. Jo gave her sister’s hand a reassuring squeeze and heard the nearly inaudible sound of a weak smile. She was about to say something encouraging, when another frustrated groan from Dipper broke the silence.

“ _Dipman?_ ” she asked.

“ _If only we had some bait!_ ” he lamented, his tone desperate, even as his volume remained hardly a whisper. Mabel snickered and Jolene was sure that Dipper cast her a withering look, even though none of them could see it in the darkness, “ _What the heck is funny about that?!_ ” he hissed at her.

“ _Sorry, bro-bro,_ ” she apologized unconvincingly, “ _It’s just we_ do _have bait._ ”

“... _no, it’s too risky,_ ” Dipper said gravely, “ _We’re not using_ any _of us as bait._ ”

Mabel tittered another nervous laugh before silencing herself, “ _Such a flippin’ drama queen, bro, oh my god,_ ” Jo heard a soft _oof_ and assumed Mabel had nudged Dipper’s shoulder, “ _I took some meat from the fridge before we left home, ya dork,_ ”

“ _Good thinkin’, sis-tective,_ ” Jo said, grinning at the use of the long-retired nickname.

“ _Why the fuck didn’t you mention that?_ ” Dipper chastised, but his heart wasn’t in it. His quiet voice had already taken on a more hopeful tone and she could almost imagine the organized outline of a plan taking form in his mind. They perched silently in the tree for a moment that felt very long, and then Dipper sighed.

“ _How’s it goin’ in there, bro?”_ Jo asked, impatient with Dipper’s methodical silence.

The familiar butterflies in her stomach made themselves known as she realized that she could see Dipper’s face before her, make out his nose, his jaw, his lips. Her vivid mental picture of him easily filled in the strained brown eyes and birthmark beneath his forelock, “ _It’s a little crazy,_ ” he said hesitantly, “ _But I have a plan._ ”

 


	24. Mystery Kids

Vibrant reds and pinks were bleeding into the sky as the triplets cautiously made their way down the tree. They huddled by its monstrous trunk and watched, blinking often in an effort to adjust their eyes, as the clearing came properly into view. The vivid sky was in stark contrast to the black-silhouetted trees and the shadowy dimness of the summit itself. Since first light, the Devils had been raising their chilling voices to call each other and slinking off to roost. Mabel wondered for a moment what sort of nest they called home before deciding she’d just as soon remain ignorant.

Beside her, Jolene was making every effort to be silent as she unbuckled Dipper’s pack, still secured to his back, and reached inside, “ _Ew, so organized,_ ” she teased him quietly.

“ _Just get the rope, Jo,_ ” Dipper sighed. In response, Jo placed something in Dipper’s hands, “ _This is not a rope._ ” Dipper pointed out.

“ _Shucks, you’re an observant one,_ ” Jo teased, pulling a tightly wound ball of rope from Dip’s pack.

“ _Why did you gimme this, Jo?_ ” Dipper asked, holding up the first item. As he held it up, Mabel recognized it as a disposable camera.

“ _The same reason you didn’t take it out of your pack,_ ” Jo said simply, placing the rope in Dipper’s free hand, “ _If we can get a pictu--_ ”

“ _No, I didn’t take it out of my pack because I was in a rush to save your ass,_ again--” Dipper interrupted, his voice raising slightly for the first time.

“ _Shut up!_ ” Mabel hissed, “ _We can yell at each other later,_ ”

“Fine,” Dipper said, resignedly, slapping the camera into Mabel’s hands. Mabel and Jo exchanged a brief glance, wordlessly agreeing not to step on Dipper’s toes until they were out of harm’s way.

Jo then moved to Mabel’s pack, “ _Huh,_ ” she whispered, appreciatively, “ _Not so organized,_ ” she rummaged around in the mess of Mabel’s pack for a moment before extricating the shrink-wrapped package of beef and handing it off to Dipper. She gave a silent ‘follow me’ gesture and the three crept as silently as they could, until they came to the chasm Jolene had described. Mabel peered down, and the black depths reminded her of the Bottomless Pit by the Mystery Shack. Only she hoped it didn’t work quite the same, or a Lone Pine Mountain Devil and Jolene’s backpack would be spit out any second now.

Dipper considered the jagged lips of the chasm and its mysterious darkness as he tore the taut plastic of the meat packaging with his index finger. Dipper was grateful for the dim light as it concealed his flush, embarrassed by his own outburst at Jo. Mabel was right, of course, yelling at each other now wasn’t just pointless, it was extremely dangerous. He’d thought he’d be overwhelmed with joy at being reunited with Jo, and of course, he was happy that she was intact, but he was surprised by the anger that flared in him. _This was so reckless of her,_ he fumed, even as he chastised himself for being mad, _So beyond stupid._

The meat in the package was roughly cut into pieces, intended to be used to make stew. By feel, Dipper selected the largest piece. It was yielding to the touch of his hand, and he hefted the wet weight of it with mild satisfaction. _It’ll do._ He handed the package back to Jo distractedly as he set about unwinding the rope. It was about seven yards long, but he only freed as much as he thought he’d need, leaving the rest coiled in tight even rows. As he tightened and re-tightened the knot, making sure the large piece of meat was secure, Dip turned back to Jo, “ _And you’re absolutely_ sure _they’re flightless, right?_ ” he whispered.

Jolene nodded stiffly, “ _Yeah, I’m sure. They can run, and pretty fast, and they’ll flap their wings,_ ” she gave a small chicken-dance motion to illustrate, “ _Like chickens do, but I think they’re too heavy to really get airborne._ ”

“ _Good,_ ” Dipper said, nodding, “ _We’re screwed if they can fly,_ ” Jo snorted, in agreement and morbid amusement. Dipper peered overhead, happy to see that a few sturdy branches overhung the chasm not too far up. He was just beginning to heft the piece of meat in his hand, preparing to throw, when Jo put a hand on his bicep to stop him.

“ _Let me do it,_ ” she said, leaving no room for disagreement, “ _I have the best arm_ ,”

Annoyance flared in Dipper for an instant, but he had to admit that she was right. _Now is no time to flatter your pride,_ he reminded himself, _Whatever our best chance of survival is, that’s what we need to do._ With only a twinge of reluctance, Dipper handed the meat and the rope to Jo, trading it for the package of the remaining pieces. He knew he was the fastest, and the best job for him seemed clear, “ _Okay, Mabes, you stay with Jo, I’m going to lure these things over here._ ”

Mabel didn’t have a chance to protest or even whisper a ‘good luck’ before Dipper darted off into the easing darkness.

 


	25. Mystery Kids, Cont'd

“ _He’s been gone too long,_ ” Mabel said, nervously.

“ _He has not,_ ” Jo assured her, although her own confidence was wavering, “ _It’s only been a couple minutes, Miss Sis._ ” She could tell from the pinched tone in Mabel’s voice that she was worried, and she couldn’t risk making it any worse. _Dipper can handle himself,_ she reminded herself, although each second made her more anxious for his return.

Mabel was unsure, but said nothing. She was listening intently, trying to hear footsteps, or wings, half-convinced that any second her brother’s scream would break the still of dawn. The mountain was waking up, normal non-nightmarish birds and small critters tittering now and then in the sparse foliage. Mabel was straining her ears to detect any sign of her brother, when one bird-call sounded that didn’t quite fit in. It sounded like it was _meant_ to be the call of a Mourning Dove, if there were some deformity to said Dove’s throat. “ _Is that--?_ ” Mabel began to ask.

“ _Doofus’ idea of an inconspicuous signal,_ ” Jolene scoffed and Mabel could just make out Jo’s smirk in the diffused light. Mabel gave a small laugh of affectionate derision as Jo devoted all her focus to throwing the bait. She gave a couple false starts, winding up her arm and taking aim before finally letting the meat soar. It sailed overhead and hooked over a thick pine bough, dangling down over the chasm exactly according to plan.

“ _Wowzer, Jo-jo,_ ” Mabel said with an impressed grin, “ _If I didn’t know better, I’d say you been practicing,_ ”

“ _Oh yeah, y’know,_ ” Jo teased, easing up a bit more rope to dangle the bait a little lower, “ _A daily regimen of toss-the-meat to keep me limber,”_ Mabel couldn’t help but giggle at that and Jo flashed her a wide smile. Maybe it was due to the fear and separation and confusion of the whole night, perhaps it was the way the rising sun was making it possible to see ever clearer, but Mabel was absolutely dazzled by her sister’s smile. She was gathering the wits to say something to her, how she loved her, how happy she was to see her, but her reverie was interrupted by another strangled Mourning Dove call, this time much nearer.

She turned around to be greeted by a terribly troubling sight. Dipper was running towards them, his brown hair swept back from his birthmarked forehead by his own speed. His face was drawn in concentration, his mouth a thin line, his nostrils flaring. For once, it was hardly Dipper than held Mabel’s eye, though. Close at his heels were several Lone Pine Mountain Devils, all the more fearsome now that she could see them.

They were less like birds than she’d hoped, and more like raptors. With powerful legs ending in menacing talons that tore the earth underfoot, and long sinewy necks that curved in an s-shape, like that of a crane. Their wings, although broad and plumed, Mabel could now tell were too small. They did not have the flimsy look of most flightless wings, like those of an ostrich, but at a glance it was clear that they could never properly keep a Devil aloft. At the joint of each was a fearsome hooked claw, and it was with these that they were desperately swiping in her brother’s direction. Their heads had a lean aquiline shape but came to a point not in the curved beak of a bird of prey, but in the scaley fanged sneer of some prehistoric horror. Their jaws gnashed hungrily, baring rows and rows of jagged reptilian fangs, now and then catching a piece of meat clean out of the air, thrown by Dipper over his shoulder. It reminded Mabel sickeningly of a dog jumping to catch a frisbee, _but way more terrifying and completely less cute,_ she corrected herself. She noticed with alarm that Dipper was headed straight for the chasm and her stomach lurched. Before Mabel could voice her fears, she heard Jo mutter, “ _You got this Dipman, c’mon, you got thiiissss._ ”

She trusted in her sister, despite the instinct to intervene, and watched as Dipper ran towards the chasm, only to clumsily jump-slash-roll to the side at the last instant. Two of the Devils had picked up too much momentum and went skidding into the hole, flapping their wings hopelessly and giving bone-chilling screeches as they plummeted down. Mabel tried to ignore the sound of their bodies colliding heavily with a stony death far below. Dipper chucked the, now-empty, polystyrene tray at the remaining Devils, who fought over it with cartoonish ferocity, shreds raining down around them. Mabel dropped to a crouch, her free hand finding Dipper’s, “You okay?”

“Yeah, Mabes,” he panted, a little winded from his stunt, giving her a reassuring smile, “‘M’okay,” He squeezed her hand.

“Nice entrance, bro,” Jo commented, a little distracted by manipulating the rope in her hands, managing to cause the piece of bait to swing pendulously over the chasm. As if on cue, a couple of the Lone Pine Mountain Devils turned their heads, gold hawk eyes blazing, reptilian nostrils aquiver as they caught the bloody scent. Mere seconds apart, they ran at the chasm single-mindedly, shoving each other and hissing competitively. At the last instant, with a grunt, Jo tugged the rope hard, drawing the meat a foot or so out of reach as the Devils took their hungry leap, only to fall hopelessly to join their brethren. The rushing sound of their churning wings, and their shrieking, only lasted briefly before they met their end. By the sound of it, their fall was cushioned slightly by the corpses below.

Jo flashed a smug smile at Mabel and Dipper, a quip rising to her lips. But it never came, replaced instead by a scream of pain and surprise. She released the rope instantly and it went flying out of her hands, as she staggered back a few steps, staring at her palms. It took Dipper just one look around, and a few seconds to cobble together what had happened. Just as Jo had been turning to her triplets, her grip loosening confidently on the rope, one of the three remaining monsters took note of the bait and made a daring leap. With the strength of its legs and one firm beat of its wings, it successfully launched itself to the bait, its jaws snapping shut tight around its prize. Its weight had pulled heavily on the rope, whipping through Jo’s loosened grip and burning her hands. Even as he went to Jo’s side to check the damage of the rope burn, the Devil could be heard thrashing and screaming as it sank into the earth.

Mabel, however, did not know what had happened. Her blistered and aching feet felt glued to the spot as her mind raced to try and tell what had happened to her sister. Dipper was peering at Jo’s hands, but it was still too dim for him to see without leaning close. A ghastly hiss reminded her that danger was still very close at hand and she whirled to see the two remaining Devils staring straight at she and her siblings. Her feet unglued themselves and she was backing away, though it was purely instinct, rather than intent. The larger beast trained its sights on Jo and Dipper, while the smaller stalked closer to Mabel, warbling threateningly. The soft loose skin of its throat and jowls rippled with the sound and Mabel’s blood ran cold. Suddenly, her steps were very much intentional, as she tried in vain to keep some distance between herself and the creature.

With the next step, she found she could go no further. She tried again, feeling her pack tug, trying to free itself from a branch on which it was snagged. Mabel could hear the grunts and scuffles, and predatory cries, of the two people dearest to her caught in a perilous fight but reminded herself impatiently, _you can’t help them if you can’t help yourself!_ She pulled and pulled, feeling like a fly caught in a spider’s web, as the Devil approached, flapping its wings ostentatiously. Mabel could feel panic creeping up on her, groping for something to protect herself, wishing she had a weapon instead of a stupid camera. _Worth a shot,_ she decided, snorting hurriedly at the unintentional pun, as she fumbled with the power button, eagerly hiding her face behind the camera as her finger mashed the shutter again and again. Instead of looking through the viewfinder, she squeezed her eyes shut, cowering, knowing the camera could not shield her from her imminent grisly death.

When said death did not come, she peered out, startled by the strobe of the camera’s bright flash. The Devil before her was startled too, to put it mildly. It was whining and blinking, staggering in the wrong direction, a bit to Mabel’s right. With the momentary lull (and trying not to be distracted by the sounds of her siblings’ strife a few feet away), Mabel reached behind herself and unhooked her pack, walking closer to the Devil and taking another picture of it. The flash seemed to sear its eyes and it gave an offended cry. It seemed to decide she was not worth the meal, turning away from her and running, with uneven gait, into the trees. She was still pressing the button repeatedly, but nothing was happening and she realized she’d reached the end of the roll of film and slipped the camera into a side pocket of her pack, before turning to help Dipper and Jolene.

Dipper and Jolene were much too focused on their impending doom to think about the repeated flashes of the camera, or to give much thought to the kind of pictures Mabel might be getting. Their adversary had managed to back them up against the precipice of the chasm and it was evidently trying to decide who it ought to eat first. Dipper stood to Jo’s left, racking his brain for some solution, some trick, some way out of this fix, but none presented itself.

“ _I’m sorry, Dipper,_ ” Jo mumbled suddenly beside him. She was giving him a guilty sidelong look, “ _I’m sorry I put you two in danger,_ ” he shook his head, not sure whether he was urging her not to feel guilty or not to continue speaking, “ _I broke my promise,_ ”

“ _Jolene,_ ” he managed a strained whisper. She looked at him expectantly, her green eyes fearful and yet still glittering intently. _Even scared as she is,_ he admired, _she’d never go down without a fight._ The Lone Pine Mountain Devil hissed, and her eyes darted to it, but Dipper’s eyes remained on her, “ _I love you,_ ” he heard himself whisper.

Jo’s eyes shot back to Dipper’s instantly, questioning, but she didn’t get the chance to ask a thing.

“HEY BIRDBRAIN!!” Mabel’s voice rang out, shattering the quiet tension of the moment with all the grace of her word choice, “Get your dumb stinky talons away from my peeps or I’m gonna mess, you, up!” The Devil reacted at once, recognizing some challenge in Mabel’s actions. She was standing several feet to Jo’s right, her feet firmly planted shoulder width apart, her hands thrust in the pockets of her (now filthy) black jeans.

“Mabel!” Dipper exclaimed, warning her, although his voice managed also to give away tremendous fear and confusion.

“That’s right, you feathery freakshow!!” Mabel goaded, “Let’s see if you can take the POWER OF MABEL!” Her voice climbed to a shout as the beast charged at her. Her right hand dug in her pocket and a second later, with a triumphant ululation, she engulfed the creature’s face in a cloud of glitter. It screeched in surprise and stumbled back a step, its wings trying awkwardly to wipe at its eyes.

“Ya _dodo!_ ” Jo grunted as she closed the short distance between herself and the newly bedazzled Lone Pine Mountain Devil, and with a swift kick sent it sailing down to join its comrades at the bottom of the chasm. There were no more Devils in sight, but with the sun still not fully risen, and the occasional hiss in the brush, the triplets exchanged only a brief wordless look of uncertain victory before fleeing the clearing and starting the long eager scramble down the mountainside.

 


	26. This Talk With You

The sun had climbed high by the time they reached the cars, the morning brilliant and clear. They had moved quickly, driven by mortal fear, for the first hour or so before the adrenaline had really begun to wear off. The night was over by that point, and they began reluctantly to accept that the danger truly was over.

As her adrenaline ebbed, Mabel had found it harder and harder to ignore the painful state of her feet. Her ankles ached terribly from absorbing the shock of every uneven step. Her toes and instep strained from gripping the shoe, trying to keep her foot from slipping around too much inside it, desperate to avoid cutting any deeper into the blisters at her heel and little toe. She had stumbled a couple times, crying out in pain, before accepting Jo’s offer for help. Jo had hoisted her onto her back, piggyback style, and uttered no complaint the rest of the way.

When the triplets at long last arrived at the gravel parking area, fewer than ten yards from where they had parked, the gloomy, fearful silence lifted off of them like a heavy blanket. Mabel burst into giggles so abruptly that Jo was startled, “Whoa, Mabey,” she asked, with an uncomprehending smile, “What’s so funny?” Unable to articulate a reply, Mabel simply buried her face in Jo’s auburn hair, just behind her ear and kept right on giggling. _We’re alive!_ She thought, in disbelief, helpless to put her giddy relief into words, _It’s over!_

“Mabes?” Dipper said, giving her side a poke. This elicited only more insistent giggles. He met Jo’s eyes, seeing his own smirk mirrored on her face, “I’m pretty sure she’s in shock.”

“Amateur,” Jo remarked sarcastically. Jo knew she could tease all she wanted, but when it came down to it the sound of Mabel’s laugh, the soft quaking of her body, the heat of her breath on Jo’s ear and neck was having a deeply therapeutic effect. She was still reeling a little with the reunion, when only a few hours ago she’d been sure she was a goner.

“How are your feet, Mabes?” Dipper asked, ignoring Jo’s snark, “I have a first aid kit. Do you need medical attention?” Mabel’s laugh crescendoed at Dipper’s serious tone, but she nodded against Jo’s neck. Jo nodded in turn, “Okay,” Dipper said, a crease of worry forming between his brows.

They were just about at the cars, when Mabel managed to get her laughing fit under control enough to gasp out, “ _There’s a...couch...back of...van._ ” Dipper dug the keys out of his jeans pocket and pulled open the doors, and hopped in, shrugging off his pack with a small relieved grunt and unbuckling it. Jo squeezed them in past a garment rack bulging with costumes, and set Mabel down gently on the loveseat that sat against one wall of the van’s hold. As Jo plopped down beside her with a grateful sigh, Mabel shrugged off her pink camouflage pack and groaned.

“Wow, sitting down feels fucking good,” Jo said in a reverent tone.

Before Mabel could respond, she felt Dipper tentatively lift one of her feet and looked down at him. He was sitting crosslegged by their feet, with the first aid kit beside him, a small bottle of isopropyl alcohol, a just-opened packet of sterile gauze and some bandages laid out in a neat line beside him. He carefully slipped her filthy shoe off and winced. Mabel followed his gaze to her foot in his hand, no more blistered or bloody than it felt, “Yikes,” she said nonetheless.

“This is gonna sting a little,” Dipper said, wetting a piece of gauze with the alcohol, just the way mom had said to every skinned knee of their rambunctious childhoods. And it was an understatement now just as it had been then. Mabel yelped and instinctively recoiled the instant the dampened gauze made contact.

Jo took her hand, lacing their nearly identical fingers, “I got you, Miss Sis,”

Mabel gave her sister a grateful smile, meeting her green eyes, sympathetic behind her glasses, “Thanks, sissy,” When Dipper went back to his careful ministrations, Mabel squeezed her eyes shut and gripped Jolene’s hand tighter, feeling the pressure reassuringly matched.

Dipper did the same for her left foot as he did the right, and glanced up at his sisters as he put the first aid kit back in order. Their clasped hands rested in Mabel’s lap, the knuckles white. Mabel’s face was still pinched, eyes shut against the pain, and her head had fallen to rest against Jo’s shoulder. Jo was resting her cheek against Mabel’s head, her gaze nonetheless glued to Mabel’s face. A weakness came over him suddenly and he felt his eyes prickle, threatening tears. _We’re alive,_ he thought gratefully, _and we’re together._

“Ya all right down there, Doc?” Jo asked, and Dipper realized she was looking at him. He nodded stiffly, and stared right back at her. He watched her green eyes search his face, trying to puzzle out what he was feeling. _What the hell am I feeling?_ He asked himself, _I’m in shock like Mabel was, for one thing,_ he noted, _but what else?_ Up at the summit he’d felt a lot of things, fear, love, a lot of anger. But he couldn’t seem to find that anger now. He was sure it was still there, and it’d rear it’s ugly head at some point, but maybe he was just too tired. _Right now, I’m just happy to be alive,_ he realized. Jo was still watching his face and said suddenly, “I love you, too,”

That caught Dipper off guard, and roused Mabel. She had been dozing slightly against Jo’s shoulder, but blinked awake as Dipper managed a slightly bewildered, “Huh?

“Up there,” Jo said, with a jerk of her head meant to indicate the summit, “When you thought you were done for? Before Mabel saved our asses,” Mabel’s mouth quirked up in a small smile, “You said you loved me.”

“I...do love you, Jo-jo,” Dipper repeated, his voice shaking slightly.

“I know, and look,” Jo said, chewing her lip, “I’m sorry I freaked out on you guys. I love you and if you want to kiss or be a couple or whatever, I--, well, you--,” she stopped for a moment, floundering slightly, “Just...do your thing, like. I’m not--, well, I don’t--, you can--,”

“Thanks, Jo, but--” Dipper interjected.

“No, lemme finish,” Jo interrupted, “I love you both more than anything and I want you to be happy,” she said simply, “End of story. Just…” she cast her eyes down, fascinated suddenly by the dirt beneath her fingernails, “Don’t forget about me,”

“We could never, you dumdum,” Mabel assured her, “We love you too much,” her eyes met Dipper’s, and they were both thinking the same thing, _the elephant in the car again._ Mabel cleared her throat nervously, “The thing is, um… While having your blessing is swanky ‘n’ all, we were kinda… maybe wondering about something else.”

“You were right, Jo,” Dipper said, the flush rising in his face giving away his nerves, “Before you...left, you accused me of almost kissing you--”

“ _No, no,_ GAH, _pleeeease forget I ever said that!!!”_ Jo cut him off, hiding her face in her hands.

“Just, hear me out, please,” Dipper went on, “You were _right._ You were completely right. I _was_ going to kiss you.” Jo let out an indecipherable whine, “And if that freaks you out, like, because I’m, y’know, your brother,” _which would be totally fucking reasonable,_ Dipper’s doubts reminded him, “Then tell me to shut up about it and I’ll shut up about it,” Jo made no sound and Mabel smiled at Dipper and gave him a small nod that seemed to say _you’re doing great,_ “But if it freaked you out because… you maybe _wanted_ me to kiss you--”

“AGH! Yes, okay!” Jo cried out suddenly, tearing her face from her hands. Her cheeks were bright red, her glasses smudged but not detracting in the slightest from the way her eyes blazed, “I wanted to kiss you, okay?!” Her voice was quickly dropping from agitation to hurt, “But you’re with Mabes now and that’s fine, that’s dandy, I’ll--”

“No, Jo, I still want to kiss you,” Dipper cut her off, and she stared at him mutely, “I want to kiss both of you,”

“Let the record show I also totes wanna kiss you,” Mabel interjected, nestling her head closer against Jo’s neck. _How does she make that sound so casual?_ Dipper wondered, _While I’m over here sounding like a babbling idiot?_

“Wha...Mabes?” Jo looked down at Mabel, who nervously met her eyes, “You...wanna what?”

“You heard me, Miss Sis,” Mabel said, lifting her head from Jo’s shoulder to look her dead in the eye, “However, I love you bunches, so I’ll repeat it anywho. I, Mabel Pines, would like to smooch you, Jolene Pines.” Apparently, that was all the urging Jo needed, because no sooner did the words leave Mabel’s lips than they were replaced by her sister’s. The kiss was so sudden, it took both of them by surprise. Mabel felt Jo’s hesitation, after only a split second, felt her urge to pull back and redoubled her efforts. She kissed back purposefully, trying hard to give Jo some sense of how much she was loved. She marvelled at the feel of Jolene’s lips, so much softer than Dipper’s, yet somehow so much more forceful. Jo’s kiss was fierce in much the same way that Dipper’s was sweet.

Reluctantly, Jo broke the kiss. She didn’t want it to end, no, she _never_ wanted it to end, but the chaos of her thoughts was becoming too loud. _What is happening, what is happening, did I really just do that?_ Her stomach ached with anxiety, sure that she would open her eyes and find only rejection. There was no way, just _no way_ that she could be included, wanted, loved, the way Mabel and Dipper loved each other. Cautiously she opened her eyes, only to see the same love and enthusiasm bright on Mabel’s face that she had felt in her kiss, “I…” she began, hopelessly searching for what to say.

“That was fun,” Mabel said, her tongue poking out mischievously.

“I…” Jo said again,

“I love you, Jo-jo,” Mabel said, tenderly smoothing Jo’s frazzled hair, “And I want you to be a part of... _this,_ ” she said with a vague gesture to the three of them, “Whatever it is, and Dip does too.”

Jo turned to look back at Dipper, still seated on the floor with the first aid kit laid out beside him. His face belied the emotions warring within. Seeing Jo and Mabel kiss was undeniably...exciting, and deeply heartening, but somehow also discouraging. Where Jo had welcomed Mabel with an enthusiastic kiss, she had greeted his own admission with only confusion and belligerence. He could not ignore the sinking feeling in his chest that the only piece missing from this puzzle was Jo wanting him back.

“Get up here, nerd,” she said, scooting closer to Mabel and patting the small space to her left. Dipper’s muscles protested as he unfolded himself, standing up just to plop himself beside Jo. It was a cramped fit, and feeling her body pressed against his side was only confusing him more, “Is this true?” she asked, an eyebrow raised questioningly.

“Yeah,” Dipper said, nodding, even more nervous now that he was being asked point blank, “I mean, yes, definitely. I love you and I want you to be part of this. Like Mabel said.”

Jo nodded thoughtfully, “Aaaand you want to kiss me?”

“Yes, Jo! How many times do I have--” The kiss should not have surprised him as much as it did. He had just watched her do the same to Mabel, and yet, her lips caught him absolutely off guard. They were as soft as Mabel’s, the delightful melting softness that he suspected to be habit-forming, yet her kiss was completely different. Where Mabel’s was all sweetness and playfulness, Jo’s was an ardent challenge. Before he knew what he was doing, he was responding to the challenge, his tongue eagerly meeting hers, his hand finding the back of her neck and pulling her closer. He felt something softly nudge his face and peeked one eye open to see Mabel planting soft kisses down Jo’s temple and along her cheek. He relished Jo’s soft sigh in his mouth as Mabel’s lips fluttered softly along Jo’s ear and down to her neck.

Mabel had crawled half into Jo’s lap, eager to kiss more of her, keenly aware of the intensity of the kiss she and Dipper were sharing. She was surprised to find little jealousy in herself, any twinge of it only a result of wanting more of this. As if sensing her hunger, Jo pulled her lips from Dipper’s, moving at once back to Mabel’s. Her hands found Mabel’s waist and pulled her fully into her lap so she was straddling her, before looping her arms around Mabel’s neck and deepening their kiss. Wanting to replicate the sigh that had driven him crazy a moment before, Dipper brought his lips to Jo’s ear, kissing it ever so lightly before moving to kiss the hollow behind her earlobe. _There it is,_ he thought triumphantly, hearing a soft whimper that cut through to his core. One hand tugged the neck of Jo’s tee shirt aside so he could kiss down to her collarbone, while the other found Mabel’s hip. At the unexpected touch, she bucked slightly against Jo’s lap, surprising all three of them. They all pulled back for a moment, meeting each other’s eyes, each glazed with the heat of want and discovery.

It was only an instant before they dived back in, hands and mouths curious and hungry. They were each amazed by how the other tasted and felt and sounded. Dipper and Jo discovered particular delight in how easily they could get a rise out of Mabel, how eagerly she responded to even these fairly modest touches. None of them could say quite how long they had been there, parked with the back doors of the vans still ajar, rolling around on the cramped little loveseat. Dipper was sitting with Jo in his lap, both of them alternately and simultaneously kissing while teasing and caressing Mabel, who was half curled up against Dipper, often peppering each of them with kisses.

With an abruptness that shocked both her siblings, Jo jumped suddenly to her feet. For a moment, they feared they had offended somehow, that she had had some sudden second thoughts. But one look at the impish grin on her face assured them that nothing was wrong. Mabel and Dipper watched as she jumped down from the van and scampered towards Aoshima/The Chariot, “To be continued at home!” She called back in a singsong voice, cackling joyfully as she hopped into the driver’s seat. Dipper and Mabel turned to each other, and exchanged a bewildered look before both busting into a grin. The smiles did not leave their faces as they securely shut the back of the van, climbed into the front and got on the road, letting Jolene lead the way home.

  
  
  


 


End file.
